


The Elements of Change and Chance

by LeiatheRebel



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Domestic Violence, TW: Domestic Abuse, Trauma, tw: abuse, will update with content warnings!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-04-18 07:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14208168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeiatheRebel/pseuds/LeiatheRebel
Summary: An extremely rare phenomena targets a particularly small group of teenagers in the city of Tokyo.Akira Kurosu is on probation and sent away to Shujin Academy in Tokyo. His girlfriend dumps him, his family practically disowns him, and he arrives unceremoniously to Sojiro’s cafe- friendless, hopeless, and with the gift of fire manipulation.Although determined to keep a low profile, he discovers that the world needs fixing. The people of Tokyo can’t get The Avengers, but Akira is sure that a delinquent with a chip on his shoulder will do the job just fine.





	1. Murmurs of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I’m a little torn on where to take this. 
> 
> Originally, I was thinking of basically doing a history of the characters and how they awaken to their powers- making the fic short and extremely character based. Like the first chapter is how Akira discovered his powers, next is Ryuji, then Ann, etc. (and how their histories and how they see the world kind of led them into awakening to their superpower.)
> 
> However, there’s another side of me that’s interested in doing something extremely narrative heavy- that focuses on how their story would be different if they didn't have mementos, cognitive worlds, etc, and relied on vigilante justice and good ol' investigation (with some new bad dudes to look into and new confidant conversations to keep things new and fresh.) The style would be similar to a Marvel Netflix show/Misfits/Veronica Mars with a dash of the source material and Guardians of the Galaxy (essentially that kind of heart, character driven, ensemble narrative that's also really funny- despite the subject matter getting dark.)
> 
> If I do it in this direction, the fic would likely have a Yusuke/Akira component because I’m mad about it, but I might just have to finish a fic dedicated to them instead! 
> 
> Would love to hear some opinions!

“Damn Brat! I’ll sue!”

Akira couldn’t get the face of that bald prick out of his mind.

At first, he stayed awake at night- attempting to carve out his facial features into a sketchbook- the bald head, the dark glasses, the ruby red drunken cheeks stained with sweat. Every night he’d end up collapsing on his bed- knowing that he was giving up.

He was pulled from school near instantaneously, despite his stellar academic and extracurricular performance. The old bastard certainly made good on his promise alright. Everything in Akira’s life that was once relatively formulaic and stable was cast aside and thrown on its head. He couldn’t even rely on working in the family diner anymore. The only place he could exist was in his bedroom. Out of sight and away from the tiny world he knew.

He remembered the woman that night too, or at least tried to, he remembered her being pretty and young, but he couldn’t pick her out from a line-up of all of the neighbors and guests he encountered on a weekly basis. He remembered her pulling away from the slurred advances of the drunk ass. He remembered wanting to protect her. Instead, he only made the situation much, much worse. No matter which way he sliced it, he was royally, unbelievably, and utterly screwed.

When his mother’s pull in local politics couldn’t save him, they began resorting to other options. His parents who were stern, but ultimately well meaning began treating him as some sort of live grenade. They would yell, pry into his private life, and act passive aggressively, dispensing advice about how he should carry himself now that that delinquent was tacked onto his status as a juvenile. He began training himself to wear glasses and combing his bangs to cover his face. He began curving his spine and allowing his rib cage to be his bodies new center of gravity. His shoulders would be wound tighter, his lumbering arms curled, like an old books pages, inward and his chin tucked in.

One night, after his father was pulled away into prolonged phone call, he was given the disheartening news that he was no longer welcome in the family home. He would soon be sent off to live with an old friend of his fathers from his time as a Tokyo businessman. All of Akira’s savings and potential wages that weren’t going to legal fees would be going to his new caretaker. They had even sent for his new school (the only one willing to accept him) uniform, which was folded neatly out side of his bedroom door.

Everything Akira had desperately worked for soon vanished in an instant. That night Akira scrounged what he could from his wallet (at least none of that was taken) and packed as lightly as he could in terms of carry ons and threw the rest in an old shippable cardboard box from the workshop. After spending 80% of the money on the postage of his clothes and must bring items, he got a ticket to Tokyo and took the train without saying goodbye. It was better that way.

Akira was lucky to have found a seat on the train, as he scrolled through his old contacts. He was surprised that the train was nowhere near as full as expected. There were a couple of travelers, but they mostly were tethered to headphones or buried behind the pages of a stiff newspaper. Akira double checked his phone records as if he missed something, but what he saw was real: no one messaged him to find out if he was okay. All of them avoided him as if he was radioactive. Being around him was comparable to social suicide- he knew his old soccer teammates, his chess club friends, the newspaper club, and even his girlfriend Yuuki had seemingly disappeared from his life as soon as they came into it. He found her break up text- cold and clinical and deleted it promptly. They all believed he was some criminal. They all believed that he was now destined to fail. Destined to be drifting through life with a growing list of crimes and jail sentences.

Somehow he was going to prove them all wrong.

He later found himself stumbling to connection on a distant town's train station, half listening to the J-Pop pounding in his ear drums. He wanted to go through his picture library- filled with images of his old friends and classmates. Sometimes they would try to follow the funny viral trends of Japan or turning their cleaning brooms to swords. But he also knew that, at some point, he had to start over, he needed to begin again. 

Upon putting his phone in his pocket, he tilted his head back. He noticed that the station was empty and desolate. The only thing he saw was the golden rays of the sun creeping in from the open doors on either side. The monitor that was barely clinging to the ceiling read that the Tokyo connection was running behind schedule. Akira sighed and opened his bag, looking for his old manga- a favorite of his that would certainly cheer him up.

He pulled it out from under the bulging cover of his rain coat and 3DS accessories and began leafing through it- lightly chuckling at the old scrawl of his name on the title page.

_Kurusu, Akira Age 11._  
_Return if Found!_

The sentence was punctuated with a hilariously drawn depiction of his favorite mascot- with a swollen face and bulging eyes. He flipped to beginning of the story, feeling his hands grow clammy. Akira tilted his head upright, as if that would help him discern if the temperature was hot enough to warrant his discomfort.

It wasn’t.

‘I must be getting sick,’ he offered to himself, as he continued to flip through the pages.

The soft music that played in the desolate subway station began to crackle and sputter as it turned into a crowd pleasing hit from a beloved idol.

_“You got yourself behind the door, deep inside your heart again!”_

He ignored it, and continued to read on.

He heard the soft voices of distant security guards- buried deep in the labyrinth of un-walked tiled hallways.

The cheery singing voice continued over the intercom, _“you wanna hide! You wanna come out! Going round and round!”_

Feeling his palms growing warmer, he began to wipe them against his jeans, hoping to alleviate himself from the sweat slicked surface of his palms.

_“Thinking hard about it, doesn’t help you a bit!”_

He felt his body grow hot as his stomach began to stir restlessly below the bony cage of his ribs.

The book bounced from his lap and onto the floor.

Akira went with it.

He reached for the book, realizing quickly that he had lost any and all feeling of his hands and witnessed what used to be his hands buried beneath a raging fire.

The boy immediately gasped. Waving his arms frantically to cease the fire, as if that would help. He found himself yelling indiscernibly, before choking on the smoke that traveled up to his nostrils and gaping mouth. The intense smell got his upper body in an intense chokehold that left his head throbbing and his mind soaring in one hundred different varying directions. 

Upon prying his head away from the flame, he noticed his beloved childhood book, kindled by the flame coming from his own body.

Closing his eyes tightly, the boy spoke as if he was speaking to another human being, “please, stop!”  
Opening his eyes after what seemed like a long while, he slowly stood up from the floor.

He immediately stood to see his hands- now not stirring with any heat or flame whatsoever.

“Son, is everything alright?” Akira heard a voice ask.

He turned to face the security guard, “yes, everything is fine, sir. I heard the voices coming from the entrance to the station. They gave me a fright.”

The security guard averted his gaze to the ground, “I can see that, damn noisy kids these days, they had you dropping your book.”

The older man reached for it, examined it briefly before placing it into Akira’s damp and trembling hands and laughed.

“I bet your parents had to keep you away from the kitchen! I remember when I was a young boy. I was always destroying things, especially the things I loved to play with the most," the man paused to reflect, "alright, you take care now!”

A crescent tear torn through the glossy, but worn cover page. He could smell it barely, as he clutched the damaged book to his chest as if it felt the sting of his bodies betrayal...

The signs of a fire.


	2. The Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new school would be a new start for the accused delinquent. That is, if the adults in his life treated him better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I'm planning on taking it a narrative route. 
> 
> This chapter follows the canon a little bit, but I didn't watch or replay the game to get the dialogue down- I feel like you guys have seen it all before, so I went with a more abbreviated version of how each character reacted in the beginning. This chapter felt difficult to get through because I really wanted to dive into the changes in canon and setting up shit and adding new characters and new things, but you have to crawl before you can walk so to speak. 
> 
> Next time, however, you're going to be like "What the hell?" I'm looking forward to it. I might've found a way to do a best of both worlds situation with the question I posed last time. (That's a hint (; ) so I hope I'm able to pull it off.

Akira refused to let go of the damaged book as he bravely navigated the various rail lines and connections to make it to Tokyo. Although he missed the various attractions of his old neighborhood- the lack of air pollution, the festivals ripe with fresh produce, and the hometown feel, he always had an affinity for urban locales. He loved the idea of entering a city and slipping away into nothingness; of being a faceless being in a crowd and away from the prying eyes of gossiping old women. Tokyo always seemed to be pulsing with life.

When he finally found the last station, he felt his legs come alive- finally being allowed access to movement after being shoved in between a mass of commuters and tourists for longer than anticipated.

He stepped onto the narrow city street of Yongen-Jaya, and was immediately confronted with the smell of various foods from the restaurants that were stitched together in close proximity. He walked alongside the various groups of stern looking businessmen and women pacing up and down the side streets. Akira pulled up his phone to double check the address- Le Blanc Cafe.

After spending almost too long scurrying up and down the dead end side roads, he finally stood in front of the cafe. It had certainly seen better days- with harsh cracks through the bricks and chipped wood. The smell that wafted out onto the alleyway was strong, bitter, and spicy. The cafe was sandwiched between a realtor’s office and a residence. This was certainly a coffee house alright- a hole in the wall one at that. Akira walked in cautiously- feeling a sense of tension as he opened the door and activated the small bell near the hinge.

“There you are. You gave your parents an awful fright when you just stropped off like that. My name is Sojiro Sakura and I am your guardian for the time you will be living here.” Sojiro explained.

Akira fell silent and just moved closer to the center of the cafe floor. The tiles were old and the tables and chairs were too used to even be considered retro. There was one elderly couple tucked away in the far corner- slowly sipping from their cups as they chatted tensely amongst themselves.

“You’re not at all what I was expecting, Kurosu. When your parents told me you were on probation I was thinking of some kind of motorcycle gang member or something,” he paused, “actually I didn’t know who was going to be walking in through my door. You’ll be spending your time in the loft upstairs- I haven’t cleaned it much- that’ll be up to you. All of the time you’ll be spending cleaning it up will give you some time to reflect on your situation,” Sojiro’s last sentence was venomous, as he turned his back to the boy and continued to tinker away with the dishes and various machines around him.

“I am expecting you to be on your upmost best behavior, Kurosu. One wrong move, and I’ll ship your ass back to the countryside with no guilt whatsoever. You’re already setting me back some, seeing that I have to drive you over to the school.”

Another voice rose up from the corner, “be careful, Sojiro. There was a nasty train accident last night. It’s causing all kinds of delays and back ups.”

Sojiro casually turned around and grabbed the remote, turning the volume up on the police report, “Investigators have confirmed that this is linked to the psychotic shutdowns that have been taking place around the country. This incident echoes the tragedy that claimed the lives of three individuals two months ago, when a tourbus collided with a guard rail while on it’s way to the Harujuku district. There is no connection between the deceased driver of the bus, and the train operator who was just taken into police custody. We will be returning at 6 with the weather report as well as any more developments in this case.”

“Damn it,” Sojiro muttered under his breath, before turning to face the boy,“when my regulars leave. I want you ready to go.”

Akira quietly walked upstairs- well as quietly as he could- considering the fact that every stair leading up to the loft would creak and groan. He opened the door slowly and immediately found himself choking on dust and the overwhelming smell of age. How long had it been since Sojiro got up there and cleaned.

There were numerous newspapers neatly tied with yard and folded into overwhelming stacks in the center of the room. There was an old bike with tires laden with holes and with cobweb covered handlebars. The amount of caked dirt and dust made the space seem almost unlivable.

He took off his non prescription glasses, and gently massaged the bridge of his nose that was red and irritated. He opened up his bag- not even caring to unpack it and grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste before returning back down the stairs and into the bathroom.

When he stepped out, he heard Sojiro call his name.

“There is no shower or bathtub here, so you will be heading out to the bathhouse up the road to get clean. I don’t want to get a phone call from your school complaining about the mushrooms growing behind your ears, so you better head over there regularly. It’ll cost money, so you also need to look into a part time job, but you’ll be lucky to find one that’ll hire a delinquent like you around here,” Sojiro stated bluntly.

Akira had realized very quickly that Sojiro was something of a crotchety old man, even though he looked no more than middle aged. He was like a sword- blunt with age. His parents probably thought that the idea of tough love would be helpful in him “realizing” the gravity of his situation, but why would it possibly be necessary? They knew he did the right thing, right? If he was faced with going back in time and given an option of doing something or doing nothing, he’d be right back in this cafe once again. The only thing different is that the creep wouldn’t have needed the pavement to get hurt, he would’ve gladly punched him out cold.

“Hmph,” Sojiro began, “aren’t you going to say something? I can never tell with you kids, if you’re ignoring me, if you’re listening to me, or if you just want me to shut my damn mouth.”

“I understand, Sir.” Akira said finally.

“Good,” the older man responded.

Somewhere behind Akira, there were sounds of shuffling and rifling.

“You take care, Sojiro,” the older woman said as her husband scurried behind her, “and you, young man. Don’t be giving him any trouble. He’s already a handful, we don’t need another one.”

“Hey!” Sojiro cried out, chuckling lightly, “I’m no less of a troublemaker than you are!”

As she left, Sojiro wavered her off, before his cheery demeanor receded once again.

The car ride was awkward and tense, with Sojiro audibly voicing his displeasure every time they drove past a cluster of unmoving cars in the other lane. Akira ignored him though: finding himself lost in his palms. Did they really get lit on fire? His book certainly indicated that it happened, but Akira just wasn’t sure. This kind of thing just doesn’t happen to a boy like him.

There was a side of him that never wanted to breath in the smoke and feel the raging heat of flame on his skin ever again. However, there was another side of himself that wondered if he could do it again.

It didn’t register to Akira that they were pulled up in front of the school until Sojiro started to audibly complain once again. Akira noted to himself that getting on Sojiro’s good side was a top priority. He looked at the older gentleman, wearing an worn looking pink dress shirt with a dorky hair on his head that barely covered his receded hair line. His skin was lightly lined with age, but Akira couldn’t help but imagine all of the stories that were locked away behind Sojiro’s intensely critical eyes. Serving coffee in the city for as long as he had, means that he must’ve eavesdropped on his share of conversations. 

“You know usually there are women sitting in my passenger seat.” Sojiro said as he closed the driver side door.

“Oh, so I’m lucky then.” Akira stated sarcastically.

Sojiro chuckled in response, “your situation isn’t lucky at all.”

“So I’ve heard,” Akira said, with a sigh. He didn’t mean to get so informal and sarcastic so quickly with his new guardian, but he had grown tired of hearing about what he had done and how it had fucked his life up immensely.

“You know,” Sojiro began, “this is what you get for meddling into adult business. If you minded your own business this never would’ve happened.”

“But,” Akira countered, “if I didn’t help her? What kind of person would I be?”

Sojiro didn’t respond and kept walking into the main atrium of the school and into the meeting.

The meeting went as well as anticipated. The Principal- a bald and short man with a tan suit and bulging eyes with a nose that looked sharpened to a fine point on the center of his face. Akira’s homeroom teacher, Miss Kawakami, was a tall woman with brown hair like springs that curled onto her angular face. Her eyes were large and almond shaped and Akira tried his damndest to avoid them as she glared at him.

“You ought to be on your best behavior. Come here on time, have no problems with faculty and students, otherwise, we will have no choice to expel you. We are offering you an opportunity to take your life back and make some good of yourself, but you must earn it. Understand?” The Principal stated gruffly.

Akira nodded.

The boy opened the door and left both his teacher and the principal in the room alone together, probably placing bets amongst each other about how long he’d last. The odds were stacked against him in more ways than one, but he had to endure. No matter what the cost. He spoke to himself as if he were a soldier about to storm the battlefield, avoiding the sneaking thoughts about how lame that line of thinking was.

As he turned to the stairwell, he noticed a man in the back of the hall. Well, more like an idealized version of what a man should be. His stature was large and physically imposing and he had muscular arms that seemed as though they could crush Akira (a boy who was made of more limbs than anything) with relative ease. He approached Akira casually and waved with a toothy grin.

“You must be the transfer student! I’m Mr. Kamoshida- the volleyball coach. I really think you’re going to love it here.”

Akira looked into his black eyes and felt his throat drop into the pit of his stomach. The boy wasn’t one of those who completely relied on his gut feeling to determine his feelings or opinions on people, but the sense of carnal fear that scattered into the vacant areas of his joints said it all. Kamoshida didn’t wait for Akira to respond as he continued to walk toward the opposite side of the hallway.

Akira thought this school might be a chance for a new start, no matter how contrived that sounded. But there was something inside of him that was unnerved completely, he knew that he had just thrown himself into a lion’s den.


	3. A New Friend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira’s first day!!! 
> 
> ... it goes as well as you’d expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the fic dives into AU territory. 
> 
> Kamoshida gives me the creeps, I can’t wait until he gets his just desserts.

Ryuji Sakamoto

“Ryuji, what happened to you?”

The young boy clung to the doorframe heaving with sweat dripping down his temple. “I wanted to get home as soon as I could,” he said, “I knew I should get home before dad did.”

His mother casually pulled on her shirt sleeves to cover the bruises and stretched her mouth tautly into a grin. “Well, let’s get you cleaned up and ready for dinner. You don’t need to be running a marathon every time you leave school.”

As Ryuji came in from the street, she ushered him to the kitchen for a glass of water. She hoped deep down he wouldn’t do it again. Her little boy shouldn’t feel burdened with protecting her- especially since he was so young.

He ran home every day since.

——

Akira had the subway details clenched tightly in his fist. He couldn’t possibly be late on his first day, especially since, practically, everyone wanted to him to fail and fall into the various traps set by the society that wanted to “reform” him. The throngs of people, scurrying to and fro from the small corner coffee shops and late nights at the offices, brushed by him. This was his last stop. As he stepped out from the underground home of coffee breath and subway cars, he found that it was still raining- and raining hard. He didn’t mind it as much as the others did. He loved the rain- the way it felt on his hair and the way it fell on his face. He looked up into the grey clouds above him, feeling his body steady itself.

He noticed, probably far too late, that a hooded person in a modified Shujin uniform stand beside him. She casually removed the hood that concealed her face, letting her icy blonde pigtails fall gracefully at her side. Her skin was pale and her eyes were a piercing electric blue. A bland car, not needing any notice, pulled up before the two silent teenagers and she immediately walked toward it. The window rolled down and Akira was face to face with the volleyball coach.

“Hey, transfer student! Need a ride?” Kamoshida still seemed in excellent form.

Akira shrugged. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be soaked if I walk.”

Kamoshida laughed. “Come on in.”

Akira heard the pop of the car door’s lock mechanism and sat in.

“Thanks.” He said.

The coach laughed. “Don’t mention it!”

The car revved up nearly instantly, as they pulled out onto the busy road. Akira could hear the sound of distant yelling, as they continued forward.

“The school is only a couple of blocks away,” Kamoshida explained, before changing the subject, “what’s your name, kid? Where did you come from?”

“Kurosu, Akira, Sir. I used to live out in the sticks, to be honest. It was close to Inaba- that place that has the famous hot springs, but that’s all of note.”

Kamoshida tilted his head. “Sir. Sir! I like it. It’s good to know that some kids have some respect for those older than them. Why did you move?”

An assertive voice came from the back of the car. “He only came in the car to escape the rain, not for an impromptu interview.”

“Come on, Ann. I was only making conversation. Besides, no matter what people say, they like talking about themselves. Ain’t that right…?”

Kamoshida seemed lost in his own head, as if he were attempting to complete the sentence.

“Akira Kurosu, Sir,” Akira interjected.

Kamoshida smacked him behind the shoulder blade and laughed jovially, “haha! A boy who knows I got the memory of an old geezer.”

“You like talking about yourself, Kamoshida,” Ann began with an accusing tone, before changing the octave of her voice, “that’s all you do, anyway.”

But the two men in the front of the car left her words hanging in the air, as they peeled into a parking space just outside of the gates.

“This is where I let you off. Go on ahead, Akira. You might need to track down Kawakami-sensei to find your classroom and get all of that stuff situated.” Kamoshida said.

“Thanks again for the ride.” Akira said, with a wave, as he walked into the school.

He noticed right away, an orange- obviously dyed- blonde spiky head bobbing up and down as the body it was attached to heaved. It gained some composure before turning around, revealing boy around Akira’s age with a permeant grimace affixed to his lower jaw. He wore a graphic t shirt that was loud and eye-catching as well as not school appropriate shoes.

“Good God,” the kid stated, “I haven’t run like that in a looooonnnggg time.”

Akira noticed a girl with a brown bob point and elbow a raven haired student on the right, “is that him?”

Akira adjusted his glasses, hoping that what he heard was a fallacy or a misunderstanding.

“Hey, transfer kid,” The blonde boy began, “they know about you. It’s all those assholes been talking about.”

Akira didn’t dignify the boy’s statement with a response, but rather insisted on staring at the faces around them, glaring from under their umbrellas as they cluttered around the school’s icy glass doors. He should’ve known this would happen. Akira felt his entire body brace as if it was beginning to steel itself to the long lunches alone, the hushed whispers, and the eery silence that would surround him for his academic year. He thought of imprisonment. Solitary confinement, in which one begins to lose the passage of time, forgets how to speak, and grows restless without the company of others. He took a breath and turned around forgetting about the towering academic building that stood, unwavering, behind him. He noticed Kamoshida, slightly tilting his umbrella over toward Ann- who didn’t acknowledge both his presence and this gesture. Her eyes were affixed to the rock floor that clicked as her school shoes tapped against them. Her face was like that of an artistic portrait- cold, somber, but dignified.

“She always acts like she’s above all of us because she can speak english and she has Kamoshida on speed dial.” A distant voice snapped.

“Yeah,” another voice jeered, “you might be Kamoshida’s girl, but that doesn’t make up for a lack of personality.”

“Savage.” The first voice exclaimed, before exploding into a fit of giggles.

Akira turned to the school once more and walked in, feeling as if a grand test had just begun.

                           ——

Kawakami was less than sympathetic to Akira’s plight. She had a hand on her hip and an annoyed expression as he walked toward her.

“I was expecting you to arrive earlier.” She stated, as she rifled through the paperwork she had previously tucked under her arm.

“Your grades are surprisingly high, so don’t slack off. You might be here for all the wrong reasons, but that doesn’t mean you should neglect your studies. I think the right school or career might… overlook your past transgressions as long as you maintain a solid academic record and maybe consider some sports or hobbies clubs.” Kawakami said, as she started walking down the hallway.

She continued, “I still don’t know why they assigned you with me. I don’t have the time nor the patience to put up with any behavior. I don’t know about the other teachers, but I’ll have you sitting in the principals office at the slightest infraction.”

He looked around noticing the numerous banners and trophy cases dedicated to the Shujin Volleyball team. If the students that clustered around the hallway weren’t talking about him, they were talking about either Kamoshida or the team as a whole.

Akira looked down, ignoring her as they entered the homeroom. The homeroom was loud with frenzied chatter, Akira could catch the fragments of sentences- all about him of course. Only some of it was clearly false- he wasn’t a drug addict nor was his offense theft or attempted murder. The rumor mill was working overtime to paint him as a villain and there wasn’t much he could do to stand up for himself.

“All right, all right! Settle down! We have a transfer student in our class.” Kawakami said, gesturing him to step forward.

“I am Akira Kurosu. I look forward to being in Shujin Academy.” He bowed before looking around awkwardly for a place to sit.

The girl from earlier, Ann, rose her hand high, more energized now that Kamoshida wasn’t by her side.

“There’s a seat behind me,” she said.

Akira had already made his way toward it before Kawakami said anything.

“Good, alright, now that the introduction is over with, let’s get on to the lecture.”

Ann turned around and slyly whispered, “you’re the guy from earlier. In Kamoshida’s car?” She sighed, “tough break.”

Kawakami turned and glared at the blond as she continued to prattle on about a topic Akira was already well versed in, Ann quietly adjusted her seating position in her seat and left the curly haired boy staring out the window, looking into a world that seemed to appear without shackles or restrictions.

                              ——

At lunchtime, Akira had the choice to eat among his peers at his desk or find a place outside the classroom- a hiding place to fold himself into as he ate. He chose the latter, hearing the explosion of conversation behind him as he exited onto the hallway. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself as he paced the floor- feeling the lights grow dimmer as he progressed to a window ledge, capable of allowing him and his store bought bento box to sit comfortably. He took it.

The door to the other classroom opened and out shuffled the heaving blonde boy from earlier. He looked over and smiled. “Cast out too, huh?”

The other boy didn’t wait for a response. “I know what that’s like. I’m Ryuji Sakamoto. I’m in your year. I saw you enter that car with Ann. You might’ve heard me yelling after you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Akira said dejectedly, “the volleyball coach offered Ann and I a ride to school.”

Ryuji’s expression shifted drastically. “Kamoshida, huh? Never mind then. I’m glad I missed it. I’d rather be caught in a hurricane level rain storm than be in the same room as that bastard.”

“Well, that’s a strong opinion.” Akira stated as a took in a mouthful of his lunch.

“Kamoshida is a downright sadist. The only reason why he still has a job is due to that shitty gold medal of his.” Ryuji said.

“How do you know this?” Akira asked.

“Volleyball practice is held for long hours multiple times a week, and it’s not surprising to see kids shuffle into class with black eyes, head bandages, and arm casts. I got no proof, no evidence or nothing. But I know, I just do, that something fishy is going on,” Ryuji lifted up his pant leg to reveal his knee and the long white scar that curved through his skin like a spiraling comet, and rubbed it as if it hurt.

“Look,” Akira began, “if what you say is true about Kamoshida, than I’m sorry that your classmates are going through that. Honestly. But I can’t help you. I’m already on thin ice as it is. If he has a warrant out for me, I’m royally screwed, man.”

Ryuji looked down, “I understand. I’m not exactly Mr. Popularity myself. But I have to do everything in my power to make sure he can’t hurt anyone again. I promised myself a long time ago, and I intend to keep that promise.”

Ryuji stood up. “Look, I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. It sucks, honestly. But I promise you, that we can be friends. I need one, and I’m sure you need one too, yeah? Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then. See ya!”

Akira ate in silence feeling his sense of justice roar in the pit of his gut. He knew that Kamoshida had a dark secret, there was something in their first meeting that told him that- even if he didn’t want to trust it at first. The curly haired boy knew lunch time was over, so he stood up and retreated back to his classroom. He felt the burden of stares on his back as he took to his desk. Perhaps Ryuji had a point. Even if they were two delinquent kids, they could maybe be friends, or even to a lesser extent- Ryuji could be the guy to play video games with or to explore the city with. Class time continued until the alarm roared to life, and after clean up, students began to leave in droves to a life of part time jobs, after school activities, dating, and social media. Noticing the large clumps of students gathering around awkwardly, Akira turned around and headed for the third floor, he knew that there was a school roof, and with luck, it’ll be empty.

He headed out onto the rain slicked roof top and looked out onto the school grounds below. All of his problems looked so… unimportant from this angle. He looked into his palms, wondering if he could do it again, or wondering if he was just hallucinating the first encounter with the flames. He extended his arms and rubbed his palms together vigorously, he told his body to summon the fire.

Nothing happened.

Flame on!

Nothing happened.

Come, flame!

Seriously, dude?

He collapsed onto the ground, not caring if he had to waddle home with soggy pants. He closed his eyes and thought of his childhood.

He remembered the cherry blossom petals that coated the small roads where he used to roam.

He remembered car rides in his dad’s rusty pick up truck, with his head practically out the window feeling the breeze brush his skin.

He remembered Yuuki’s face, bright red and tear stained, after he asked her out.

“I thought you’d never ask!” The tone of her voice, breaking as she buried her head into his shoulder.

He remembered the man, falling on his own face. Hurting his own damn self. Standing up, holding his bloodied nose. He remembered the woman, staring at him like a fucking deer in headlights as he was carted away by incompetent policeman who laughed as he issued his statement. His old life. Stolen. His friends. Abandoners. His parents. Non-believers. Yuuki. Betrayer. That man. Condemner. His happiness. Vanished. His story. Hijacked.

The smoke entered his nose before he even registered that he was on fire. Worried about his blazer, he pried open his eyes and found the flame centralized on his palms.

“Good. Stay there.” He commanded it. The flame was both terrifying and beautiful. It’s mixture of red and blue made the flame appear more of a stylized fire than anything he’d ever seen in real life. Although he felt the heat bombard his skin, causing his palms to sweat, but it didn’t burn his flesh. An enigma. A weapon.

He heard the footsteps charge up the stairs before his body even registered their presence. He attempted to “turn off” the flames, but the wouldn’t budge, cackling wondrously on his palm lines. He slammed his hands onto the rain water, feeling smoke and vapor sizzle around his body.

He turned to face the intruder, who was breathing heavily as his eyes met Akira’s. Ryuji. How was he able to get to Akira so quickly?

“What the fuck?!”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: 
> 
> Morgana! 
> 
> More Ann, before she gets her own chapter!


	4. Vigilante Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A striking new development.
> 
> TW: descriptions of physical abuse- I briefly summarized the abuse section in the end notes, should you need it :) just scroll until you see the first line break and you’re done with that section!

Chapter Four

A long pause rolled through the initial moments of their exchange.

Ryuji stared at the other boy, dumbfounded, “Yo, dude. Uhhh, were your hands just on fire a couple of seconds ago?”

Akira was silent for a moment. “Uh, no?”

Ryuji nodded to himself, “my mis- woah woah woah! No, your hands were totally on fire! I know. I saw.”

Ryuji lunged forward with an unforeseen quickness as he grabbed Akira’s hands, before immediately recoiling backwards and onto the concrete below.

“Your hands are boiling hot, dude! How can you stand it? Fuck, I think I just got a blister on my index finger!”

Akira, who’s mind was running on autopilot, extended a hand, only for it to be swatted away by the unwelcome roguish visitor.

“I feel fine.” Akira said, after Ryuji finally stood up.

“Seriously, dude? I can hardly fucking believe it,” Ryuji paused momentarily, “ah shit! Now my pants are all soggy! Now I’ll have to walk home feeling like I’m wearing a wet diaper.”

“Well I’m sure you’re used to that feeling.” Akira said bluntly.

“Hey! Don’t change the subject with your lame ass excuse for humor. The fuck was that?” Ryuji cried out.

The black haired boy shrugged, “I dunno. It just happened, I guess.”

“‘It just happened, I guess,’ is for when you accidentally oversleep through homeroom, not for having your hands on fire! What the hell is going on?” Ryuji yelled out in response.

Akira explained everything, starting from the beginning, and sparing no details. Ryuji continued to stare at him slack jawed and wide eyed, as if he were speaking to a superhero and not another teenage boy.

“I’m sorry to hear that some shitty adult fucked you over, too. This whole “passing out” after reading the book thing would seem super far fetched if I didn’t see it with my own two eyes.” Ryuji replied.

“I figured it would be. I haven’t said anything to anyone else about it. I don’t know what’s going on, what my limits are, anything! I feel, I’m not sure how I feel. Terrified, pissed off, scared? It’s all too surreal.” Akira said.

The curly haired boy could here the cars honk from the streets below. He could feel the wind pick up against his cheeks. Everything seemed so scary. But also so limitless. He found his eyes looking toward the fence that enclosed them on the roof

Ryuji cautiously placed his hand on Akira’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you figure it out! From here on out, we’ll be partners! You can rely on me, I promise!”

Akira smiled wryly, “ ‘preciate the optimism, bro. But it might be misplaced.”

“Aye, what the hell, we figure it out- we figure it out! We don’t- well I’m certain you can make a mean bowl of ramen with that flame of yours!” Ryuji exclaimed.

Suddenly, a voice came out from the doorway behind them, “why am I not surprised?”

Miss Kawakami approached them cautiously, as if they were some sort of wild animal she needed to evade.

“Hey Miss Kawakami! What brings you up here?” Ryuji asked casually.

“I heard reports of smoke clouds and loud voices up here! Of course I came up here to investigate. Kurosu, you really need to be mindful of the company you keep. Now I need you to empty your pockets.” Kawakami said angrily.

“Huh?” Akira asked.

“Empty them. Now.” She replied.

“Alright, alright!” Ryuji threw out a packet of gum at kawasaki’s feet from his blazer pocket, while Akira patted at the empty pockets at his sides and his hips for some contraband that wasn’t there.

Ryuji was more than making up for the two of them, however. He was pulling out wadded up receipts, loose change, and his headphones.

Kawakami drew in a long sigh, “fine, maybe it was a false report. You seem to have pissed a lot of people off already, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone saw you two together and tried to get you out of here immediately.”

“That’s because everyone knows, Miss. They know about me. Someone told them.” Akira explained.

“Who?” She inquired.

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d be tracked them down and demanding an explanation.” Akira said, angrily.

“I’m going to ignore how threatening that sounded. Kurosu, no student knew about you. Not even the Student Council President knew. The only people who knew was me, the counselor, the Principal, and the higher ups in that government initiative that sent your case over to us. It’s not even in your student records.” Kawakami replied.

Ryuji interrupted their exchange, “it’s all over the chatrooms. Some of the sh-stuff, these kids are saying is ridiculous. Akira stabbed someone, he was apart of the Yakuza, he does drugs, that sort of thing. It’s spiraling out of control! Some kids are even threatening him on here. Assholes- er- sorry Miss Kawakami. Jerks. I meant jerks.”

Kawakami rubbed her forehead. “This just got more complicated than it needs to be. Kurosu, I think you should run home. I’ll see if I can sort stuff out on my end. I’ll probably have to take this to the principal to appease standard procedure.”

Ryuji groaned, “ugh! Another anti-bullying assembly.”

“You two, go home. Now. I already am not happy that you both decided to become a match in delinquent heaven. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Kawakami rubbed her head once more before turning her back to them.

“Well, I don’t think we should let her tell us twice. I’ll walk you to the station, I figure that is the least I can do,” Ryuji began, “if you haven’t already used that noggin of yours. I’m considered bad news ‘round here too. Nowhere near as bad as you,” he paused,” actually that depends on who you’re talking to.”

“What did you do?” Akira asked.

“Not here. I’ll tell you when we’re out of school. Don’t want prying ears to hear us.” Ryuji replied.

“Well that’s just… ominous.” Akira stated.

“I promise, I just can’t tell you when he’s around. You’ll know everything, I-“

The audible bang of a body against a classroom door echoed just beyond the last stair on the staircase.

Ryuji immediately bolted for the sound, and Akira was forced to pursue; feeling his lungs burn from the momentary exercise.

It was a boy, who looked as green as a first year student, crumpled on the linoleum, with his head pressed against the door: miraculously damage free despite all of the weight pressed against it.

“The fuck happened to you?” Ryuji asked as he reached out an arm.

The boy’s face visually recoiled and looked briefly terrified, before returning to a sorrowful expression.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he spoke to them. “I’m so tired, man. So, so spent. He hit me and told me to keep going. He hit me again in… in my chest and wouldn’t let me leave. He’s too precise. My nose. Fuck. I think he broke my nose.”

Akira got closer to the boy and saw the large purple and blue bruise that covered the bridge of his nose, as well as the remains of dried blood on his upper lip.

“I don’t care anymore, man. I gotta go to the nurse. My fucking head. I don’t know where I am.”

“Shit,” Ryuji cursed, “I think he’s got a concussion.”

“He needs to go to a nurse. Do you think any of the teachers are still here? They might be able to file some sort of report for this kid. Find out who the culprit is.” Akira explained.

Ryuji’s expression darkened. “They already know who the culprit is. Kamoshida.”

They lifted the boy up and began to walk him toward the nurse’s office, with Ryuji putting in the most effort to get him from point a to point b. The boy was silent- only giving off momentary whimpers, as they neared the first floor. They could, from the stairwell, hear a male voice scream angrily.

“Where the fuck is Ishiguro? You assholes couldn’t find a volleyball if it was right in front of your dumbass faces! Why do I even bother being your coach? I can find a much better school to coach for. One that doesn’t have incompetent whiny idiots like you as their volleyball team!”

The boy immediately began squirming in their arms. Pulling them hard in the opposite direction with all his body weight.

“I can’t go back. I can’t go back.”

Akira turned to Ryuji and the boy and spoke confidently. “I don’t think we can make it to the nurses office. But I can find the nearest clinic on my phone. We go there. Patch him up and from there, we can go to the station to file a police report, which might bear more weight.”

“I’m all for that. But we gotta distract Kamoshida to do so, otherwise both of us will be thrown out of here before we can even make it to the door.”

Kamoshida’s voice erupted from beyond the safety of the stairwell. “Fine. We’ll head back in to the gym. But I want 200% from all of you to cover up Ishiguro’s spot. Yes, that includes you Mishima. For all you complaining, give Ishiguro choice words when you see him.”

“Or, he’ll just leave before we are forced to plan anything.” Ryuji said.

“How convenient.” Akira added.

Ryuji sighed. “Hold him. I’ll go to the nurses office, since he’s gone, but she might’a left already.”

Akira and Ishiguro stood awkwardly in the stairwell for what seemed to be far too long until Ryuji returned. Not one to waste a moment, Akira immediately went to his phone’s search bars for clinics and saw one not too far from the cafe.

“Looks like it’s back to the subways for us.” He said with a defeated smirk.

“I got a hit for a clinic not even a 10 minutes from my house,” Akira said, “we throw him in there. Maybe run him to the police. Sort shit out like that.”

———————————————————————

In Another Location

The various employees of the SIU were scurrying to and fro, from their desks to their coffee machines. Most of them had spent more than 48 hours already on their various laptops and in police precincts throughout Japan.

The director, a short and balding man in his late 70’s, overlooked the prime real estate that dotted the landscape below his post. Large amounts of files had amassed on his mahogany desk, but this phone call was far too important.

“We have successfully introduced the chemical to over 76% of Japan. The results are just as you expected. It’ll be much easier to orchestrate breakdowns and reign in officials, if they do not follow through on their words.”

The director looked over his shoulder, to the door, locked and shut tight from the ears of sleepless interns and stressed lawyers. He continued.

“They’ll find that vigilante soon enough, I can assure you. They’re making mistakes. Besides, all they target are low level creeps and purse snatchers.”

The voice on the other end began to talk back, causing the director to listen intently.

“Unconfirmed reports. It could all be a misunderstanding or the raving rants of a homeless man? I can assure you, if and, I mean “if” there were complications, my team will handle it.” The Director sputtered out, hoping to appease the unappeasable.

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

The director waited for the person on the other end of the line to hang up, before immediately rushing to dial the other number he could contact. He knew how much the caller despised their subordinates hanging up before they did.

He immediately took to his contacts list, hoping to find some scientist or some researcher with enough sense to explain what the hell was going on.

He turned on the small television that was affixed to the wall and turned it up to drown out his voice to all of the nameless people waltzing outside his office.

1 ring.

2 ring.

“Hello?” The voice asked.

“It’s me. I need all available units looking into this vigilante character thats parading across Tokyo…” A pause. “Yes I understand that it might be difficult to find resources, but I expect you to do your job. You already know the consequences if you fail.”

The director turned his head to the tv monitor, conveniently falling to a news channel.

The reporter, who’s face was smeared with heavy make-up products was speaking to a member of Tokyo’s homeless population with what seemed like feigned interest.

The homeless man, who’s beard was unkempt and riddled with grey hairs,“…I saw it. The sorcerer. In the subway. It was precise. A shifter. Neither human nor animal. Cat like. Moved like we breath air. Oh so gracefully.”

The reporter stared into the camera like they were judging their producers for ever allowing them to be apart of this televised conversation.

“Did this wizard have a name?” The reporter asked, almost mockingly.

“We call it Morgana.”

——————————-

In an Undisclosed Location

The stolen food containers littered the floor of the abandoned warehouse, as the black cat leaped into the ajar window. There was a small bag of gummy bears, in his mouth from the aisle of a convenience store. Perfect for a snack.

The cat continued to run toward the barely working television that was abandoned by a local antique shop. The voices, albeit, rattling and echoing from the ancient speaker were still recognizable.

“We call it Morgana.”

The cat rolled forward, and from this movement, sprung the black haired boy with brilliant blue eyes. He rolled his neck: feeling the bones crack as he performed the movement.

“Busy day!” He said to himself, as he plopped down to gorge on the gummies in his lap.

The reporters tone violently shifted. “Onto our next story, we’ve been receiving reports of violent muggings in the Shibuya area. These brazen criminals even accost people, particularly young teenagers, in broad daylight for things like money and their cellphones. We spoke to some Shujin and Kosei students for some more insights into this horrifying news story.

The boy pulled back the short stocky bangs that fell into his eyes as he sighed to himself.

“Tokyo, no matter what I do to try and fix you, there’s always some asshole who tries to pick on the weak. I don’t think my work will ever be done,” he chuckled darkly, as he picked up the slingshot from it’s resting spot: under the mess of fabrics and papers that he slept on throughout the winter months for warmth, “I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know if this vigilante stuff is my purpose,” The boy stared at his knuckles, tightly bandaged by the kind back alley doctor who asked no questions, “but it’s worth a shot.”

“Morgana?” He said with a sly smirk, “I like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you needed to skip because of the trigger warning here is the summary. 
> 
> A volleyball player Ishiguro is a victim of Kamoshida’s physical abuse- who escaped practice and was found- likely concussed- by Ryuji and Akira who aim to carry him out and take him to Tae Takemi and, later on the police precinct to file a report. 
> 
> Ryuji is becoming a total dad and I’m here for it. 
> 
> Also Morgana is a shape shifter and basically still a little shit.... hmmm back alley doctor... interesting ;) 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	5. A New Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit, gets very, very real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: injuries are described in this chapter. Also more Kamoshida- which is ew- can’t wait for this bastard to get what’s coming. 
> 
> Bet you didn’t expect this out so soon, huh? 
> 
> Tbh me neither. 
> 
> There’s probs some errors, but mobile posting is being an ass, so I can’t change much. Will probably fix tomorrow or whenever I get the chance! But I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Chapter Five

Ryuji Sakamoto

“And don’t you ever come back, you hear me?” His mother yelled out the door, before closing it and locking it swiftly. She sighed.

“Momma?” Ryuji called out from the doorway, almost afraid to come down the stairs to face her. He had fallen asleep to the sound of them fighting soon after Track practice broke. He was still in his sweaty uniform, but even that couldn’t phase him.

His mother didn’t turn around to see him. She spoke her sentences into the air before her, as if she were afraid to see his reaction. “Ryuji. Your father. He’s gone.”

A beat.

“Good.”

She finally turned to see him now, and he could visually see the relief in her eyes. He slowly walked down the stairs, feeling every give and groan of the wood as he did.

“It’ll just be you and me now, Ma.” He said as he hugged her tightly, closing his eyes even tighter- wishing that his crappy memory could somehow lock onto this moment and never let it go.

“As it should be.”

——————————————————-

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

Akira groaned. “Ryuji. Language. You got people staring at us.”

Ryuji couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Could it possibly be that they’re looking at the nearly unconscious kid we’re lugging back to this random ass clinic in the middle of nowhere? Seriously, Ishiguro, you gotta start pulling your weight, man!”  
“Sorry.” Ishiguro muttered.

“Let it be put on record,” Akira began, “that I didn’t think this idea through. At all.”

Ryuji scanned the crowd, staring at them as if they were rabid animals carrying a fresh kill to some distant cave.

“Yeah, I kinda got that. Shit, maybe we should call an ambulance or something? People might get the wrong idea.” Ryuji said, before making eye contact with an overly bothered elderly woman who gasped at the sight of the lumbering kids in the center of the road.

“We got him on the subway and onto the connections. We’re so close. Think of it as some exercise.” Akira offered.

“Some exercise this is.” Ryuji said, under his breath, as he adjusted his grip on the near unconscious boy he propped up with his left arm.

They slid into the back alley and, nearly rejoiced as they saw the darkened windows that gave way to the sterile waiting room walls.

They opened the door and heard the jingle of a small bell as they pushed themselves through the narrow gap.

A woman behind a glass window shot up from her seat, the hardback copy of an illegible book title was thrust upright from her hands and fell with a mighty thud onto an unseen desk surface.

“What the hell is going on here?” She cried.

—————————————————————————————

From the entrance to the alleyway stood a short and stocky figure who peered into the darkened alley with a curved eyebrow. He pulled at the bottom of his school blazer to adjust it, before pulling out his shiny cellphone. His greasy fingertips danced on the bright screen of a text message box.

Me: Know that freak in the 2nd year?

Me: The transfer student?

 

The textbox appeared near instantaneously.

 

K: Ya.

K: It’s funny every1 is scared of him. He don’t look like shit. LOL

K: Yuri and his boys were thinking of ganging up on him after school. Trying to show him what’s what. Apparently, they wouldn’t get in trouble if they bruised him up a little.

K: Don’t know where they got that memo, tbfh.

 

Me: Bastard pissed off a lot of people, man. Just by showing up to school. Sakamoto took him under his wing. Looks like they beat up Ishiguro or something.

Me: He looked bruised and cut up. They were carrying him to some shitty back alley clinic.

Me: guess they felt guilty or someting.

 

K: Texting Yuri now.

K: I think I know a way to fix this. >:)

 

——————————————————————————

In a Shibuya Cafe

“Shiho,” Anne began, “you don’t look so good.”

The black haired girl merely laughed at the Anne’s comment. “And you worry too much, Takamaki. Seriously. Practice just wears me out is all.”

“It’s always wearing you out, Shiho!” Anne said, her voice rising barely above a worried whisper.

“As a good practice is supposed to, Anne,” Shiho commented, “I seriously meant it when I suggested taking up a sport,” Shiho took a casual bite of the western style chicken on her plate, “it might give you some perspective.”

“And that perspective just might be that he overworks you guys too damn much, Shiho. I seriously can’t stand him sometimes.” Anne said angrily.

“You can’t stand him all the time. I really think you need to stop seeing him. I know how much he creeps you out.” Shiho replied.

Anne made a disgusted face. “I’m not “seeing” him. Don’t make me throw up my nuggets, even though you’re my best friend, I won’t hesitate to beat you up for making me upchuck my chicken.” She ended her comment with a laugh, despite neither of the two girls thinking it was all that funny.

“I hate that he’s making you uncomfortable. He’s a good coach. He treats us all so well-” Shiho began.

Anne interjected, “Shiho-”

“Please can we talk about something else? I don’t want to think about this anymore.” The other girl said, before taking another bite of her chicken.

Anne could only nod.

——————————————————————

Leblanc

“You’re late.” Sojiro stated bluntly, as Akira strolled into Leblanc, his senses being thrown for a loop with the intense scent of coffee and curry intermingled amongst each other.

“I have a note.” Akira offered, rifling in his pockets for the folded piece of paper that he was given by both the police officer and the doctor.

Akira continued, “we found a classmate who got hurt. The nurse was gone, so we took him to a clinic. He wanted to file a report soon after, so we went with him. He was really shaken up.”

Akira placed the note on the counter and the boss snatched it, almost as if he didn’t believe a word Akira was saying. He moved his reading glasses- placed low on the bridge of his nose and read it intensely.

“Dr. Takemi is one of my regulars and I have the phonebook with this precincts number on it. Stand right there as I call. I don’t want you to think you can pull one over on me.” Sojiro stated, venomously as he rifled through his address book for the Dr.’s number.

After calling them both, he stopped to rub the bridge of his nose, as if he was plagued by a headache.

“Sorry, kid. I had to check it out. Looks like I might be able to trust you after all,” the older man paused, “did you grab something to eat?”

Akira frowned, “I wanted to get back as fast as I could. I meant to grab something fast like Big Bang, but I didn’t want to keep you waiting long,” he paused, “I’m really sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean for my first night here to end up like this.”

Sojiro sighed, “I’ll fix you up some curry and grab you something cold from the fridge. I already put away my coffee ingredients. Don’t get used to this late night dinner service, Kid. If you come home soon as curfew hits, I will expect that you’ve eaten.”

Akira grinned warmly, “thank you, Sir.”

Sojiro smoothed out his apron and checked the time on the clock as if he was waiting for something. “Don’t mention it.”

———————————————————————

Leblanc (Cont.)

Early Morning

If Akira could strangle a phone, he would’ve done it by now.

He felt the early spring air, tinged with dew and the strong scents of the varying breakfast menus of the collective eating establishments outside. He stood up, finding his pajama shirt damp with his sweat. He remembered tossing and turning the night before: his brain racing with the events that previously transpired. He recalled his long eyelashes knitting themselves together as he closed his eyes shut- remembering every perceived judgement placed onto him in school. Every side glance, every side step, and audible comment.

He stood up and raised his arms high, hearing his bones click and ache from the sudden burst of movement. He overlooked his room, cleaned enough to be passable, and smiled.

He quickly through on his uniform, not caring much about his hair, before grabbing his glasses. As he neared the staircase, Akira couldn’t help but inhale the strong scent of Sojiro’s curry. He hoped that he never grew sick of always eating it, since it seemed to be all that the older man ever cared to cook.

He sat on the stool and yawned. “Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning, kid. Eat up fast. Otherwise you’re going to be late and they’ll be sure to flail you alive.” Sojiro replied, placing the dish before Akira before turning his back to make a cup of coffee.

“A nice thought to have while I drink your morning brew.” Akira commented, with a sly smirk.

“All of these “witty,” Sojiro airquoted, “comments. I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk.”

“Why do I get the feeling you get that a lot from all your lady friends who sit in your drivers seat?” Akira joked.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t even have a lady friend to begin with? Open that trap up again and I’ll throw some sweaty gym socks in the curry pot and not feel guilty whatsoever.” Sojiro replied.

Akira felt a blow to the gut that made him momentarily think that Sojiro was being completely serious, but when he saw that slight grin that manifested on the other man’s face; he knew that somehow he was slowly chipping away at the hard ass facade.

Akira soon stood up from the empty plate, thanked Sojiro, and ran out quickly into the appealing, but frigid, early Spring morning air. He began walking to the station, placing in his earbuds one at a time.

He and Ryuji exchanged numbers shortly after the trip to the police station. Despite wanting to play it cool for his new friend, he couldn’t stop himself from texting Ryuji- asking him to meet him in the underground walkway… if that was at all possible. Even though Kurosu knew that he was a branded man in school. A feared social pariah. He couldn’t help but feel comforted by the prospect of still having someone to walk with to school. Someone he thought he could trust.

He sat on the train, lucky to find a seat, and let the back of his head rest against the window- despite how prone his head was to being bumped around. The music still blared in his ears, and continued to do so, as he stepped off the train- not at all minding the pushy passerby’s who rammed into his shoulders for a spot on the train. He continued into the belly of the underground walkway. He looked at his phone for a response from Ryuji. But there wasn’t any.

How strange.

As he walked past the various stands and vending machines, he soon found himself colliding with another body.

“Hey,” the voice cried out, “Ah man, that’s my fault, kid. Sorry.”

Akira opened his eyes and accepted the outstretched hand. “Don’t worry about it. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

“Happens to the best of us, apparently,” the officer replied,” I’ve been too busy looking for this damn cat. Commuters said they saw the mangy looking thing accosting people. Let anyone of us in blue know if you spot it, alright?”

Akira nodded before being back on his way. However, it wasn’t long before he was stopped once again by a familiar face.

“Hey! Transfer student! Wait up!”

Kurusu turned around and saw the familiar blonde pigtails swaying in the wind as she lightly jogged over.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met yet.” She said with a beaming smile.

“You’re Takamaki-san, right?” Akira asked, his voice suddenly softer and cautious.

Ann gasped. “No need to get so formal! You’re Akira Kurusu, right?”

He smiled. “Yup. You remembered.”

“I try to,” she said with a smile, “look, I’ve heard what they say about you, and I think that all of it’s bullshit. You shouldn’t let it get to you.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, but that’s easier said than done to be perfectly honest.” Akira replied.

“Look, if you ever need someone to talk to. I’ll always be willing to lend an ear. I know what it’s like, you know? It just… sucks.” Her eyes fell to his perfectly shined shoes.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” He said, before they walked wordlessly to the train. They said nothing, but didn’t felt the pressure to say anymore. He knew that she was going to walk into Kamoshida’s car. He knew she would sit in the back and not give any eye contact. He knew she would sit in the classroom, alone, listening to the catty girls gossip and weave fairytales between each other. He knew it disgusted her. It disgusted him too.

As he stood pressed up against two other commuters, he turned his neck, and found himself staring into vivid eyes of blue. The owner of the eyes stood awkwardly amongst a flock of older tourists, looking aloof as he was jostled between the bodies. He grinned back at Akira, and Akira halfheartedly returned the favor before looking away. The other boy looked his age, with his angular cheekbones and short stylish black hair- that was slightly lengthy, nearly past his ear lobes with a tightly cropped back of the head. He looked effortlessly stylish, despite his clothes being so baggy and old looking- riddled with holes and loose frays.

He exited the train car. Well, he had to considering the amount of pushing going on behind him.

He made his way out of the station and onto the road, he pulled out his phone to check the time, before finding two strong arms clasped tightly on his shoulders. He was hastily thrown into the nearest alleyway, finding himself looking up and into the eyes of a fellow student he didn’t recognize.

Kurusu spoke, “do I know you?”

The other boy laughed. “Listen here, you fucking freak. I don’t give a fuck what assault charges you have on your record. There’s no way, you can take on five of us.”

Akira laughed. “That’s a lot of f bombs.”

The other boy laughed in return: taking the bottom of his foot and ramming it, hard, into Akira’s gut. Akira recoiled back onto the hard grown, he could barely muster the strength to turn his back toward his opponent: coughing into the cement.

“Look, I don’t have any issues with you, man! Please. Leave me alone!”

Akira’s watering eyes could see the boy multiple vaguely as he craned his neck in that direction.

“Let’s finish this asshole, guys!” The boy rallied.

Akira soon felt more bodies standing above him, as a single arm reached for his neck. The curly haired boy tried, in vain, to grab and claw at his wrists, but the boy seemed to laugh at these foolish attempts, before delivering a crisp blow to the side of the head- affectively breaking Akira’s fake glasses. The plastic above his right ear broke in half from the pressure and scraped against the exposed skin of his temple, causing him to wince as he felt his skin curl. His brain felt incredibly disoriented. His sight felt as though it was viciously snatched from his skull.

“You’re a punk ass bitch!” The boy screamed.

A featureless boy shouted out. “Yuri, shouldn’t you stop? He’s already given up, man.”

“Nuh-uh. Not after what he did to Ishiguro.” This “Yuri” replied.

“Ishiguro-kun,” Akira began, “Ishiguro-kun was injured from a volleyball incident. I took him to the police to file a report and to a doctor. He’s resting today! He’s fine!”

“That’s a lie!” Yuri bellowed, holding his fist up above Akira once more to dole out a devastating blow.

Akira could only watch this in what he perceived to be slow motion. One moment, he was bracing himself to be struck, and the next, he witnessed some sort of projectile colliding with the pale fist- sending blood spilling onto the cement below and also onto Akira’s uniform.

“Dammnit!” Akira yelled, disoriented and shocked by the transpiring events.

He registered an valent figure charging toward the other boys: dodging blows and giving them right back with ease. Akira felt up against the wall, attempting to stand upright. No matter how quickly, Akira tried to do this action, he found himself staring at the backs of the boys who were above him. He felt his chest grow tight and his jaw clench.

He looked at his savior, the one who stood up for him, and immediately found himself staring back into the face he saw in the subway. Only this time- the face was partially obscured with a bandana and a pair of cheap sunglasses. He felt his hands grow hot, and become enkindled by his rage. These boys jumped him without so little as an explanation? They assumed they could be judge, jury, and executioner?

“Woah. Oh my god.” The subway savior exclaimed, “you- you’re like me?” He stared at Akira’s hands. “Stop before you catch on fire!” He commanded.

Akira dropped to the floor, weak and immobile. “I can’t.!”

“Let me help, my name is Morgana by the way. There’s a chance you might’ve heard of me?” Morgana grabbed Akira by the wrist and closed his eyes.

“Uh, no. I’ve never heard that name nor seen you in my life. Until the subway at least. ” Akira coughed out.

“No. That wasn’t me.” Morgana said. 

Akira gave him a knowing look. “Yes it was.”

“Fine! Well I guess you’re not cool enough, then.” Morgana flippantly commented.

Akira felt nothing at first, only the pain of a beating and the fire in his palms. Morgana looked down, and suddenly, Akira felt the tightness in his chest slowly alleviate. He felt a light touch of wind lightly dance across his face. He could only ask,

“are you doing this, Morgana?”

“Maybe!” The voice replied.

Morgana continued, “maybe I can teach you. If you’re willing to endure all of the training and all that it takes to be as cool as me, but now’s not the time.”

Akira leaped upright with the newfound energy, before immediately regretting it, “Time? Shit! I’m going to be late for school!”

“Woah woah woah! You gotta tell me- who were those guys. I saw ‘em in Shibuya talking about fighting someone. You. They’re the guys picking on your school and Kosei? I saw it in the news.” Morgana inquired.

“What?” Akira asked, “I dunno. I just got here! Ryuji might know though!”

Morgana snapped around, hearing footsteps. “Someone’s coming, but you’re still badly hurt!”

“Go! I’ll talk about it later. I promise.” The curly haired boy said, waving his hand to encourage the other boy to scurry. Morgana ran behind him, before Akira took an unsteady step and fell onto the cement again.

He groaned.

“Akira! Holy shit, dude! Who did this to you? Hang on! I’m gonna pick you up.”

Kurusu smiled weakly- the tears were flooding his cheeks. “Looks like Ishiguro and I have something in common, Ryuji. I- I don’t think I belong here.” He felt his body progressively grow lighter and lighter, as he slipped into nothingness and far away from the cold concrete.

————————————————-

Shujin Academy Hallway

“Did they find the boys who did it?” Kamoshida asked, ringing his hands through his thick head of curls.

“We got a name, but we’re letting the boy rest before we place some pictures in front of him.” Principal Kobayakawa replied.

Miss Kawakami rubbed her arm and looked toward the floor. “Poor kid. It’s as I said, people found out about him. It was only a matter of time before-”

“The nurse said that he’s miraculously in better condition than we expected. His guardian is on his way, but it seemed like he had… some choice words for how we handled this sensitive situation.” The Principal replied.

Kawakami was quick to respond. “Do you blame him though? How could this have possibly gotten out? Is there any chance Kosei would take him since he was assaulted nearby school grounds? Our students and theirs have limited interactions with one another, there’s a chance that-”

Kobayakawa’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “Ah! Nonsense! Nonsense! Remember how much funding we get from our Government Rehabilitation Program! He’ll be okay. Once people will hear he got hurt, perhaps they’ll garner sympathy and ease up. It’ll all be fine!”

Kawakami raised an eyebrow. “Uh- I don’t think so, Sir.”

Kamoshida stepped forward. “Listen, I think you were crazy to even bring a student with a criminal record and an assault charge onto this campus. You can’t rely on my reputation to bolster this school up! It was only a matter of time before-”

“Before what, Coach? Maybe you’d think me rude to suggest that you should stick to spiking and polishing volleyballs before commenting on something you’re, apparently, supposed to have no knowledge of?”

Kobayakawa immediately leaped into pleasantries. “Sakura-san. Good morning-”

“Cut it, where’s Kurusu?” Sakura stated bluntly.

“He’s in the Nurse’s office resting. H-he said he was grabbed from behind just outside of school grounds. H-he said that a passerby scared them off. A-another student brought him to campus for treatment.” Kobayakawa explained.

“Woah, hold it right there,” Sojiro began, you’re telling me it was some random person that ran them off, not some student or your burly volleyball coach? It was just outside of your property. Where you’re supposed to take care of the students? Do you have any idea how incompetent you sound? Tell the nurse to wake him up, and get this woman,” he gestured to Kawakami, “ the only one speaking with sense, and the student who brought him to campus my address so they can have a free curry dinner on me. I want the telephone number of Kosei Academy and any schools in the area who’d be interested in taking him in. I also want you to expect me to make some calls to some of my friends in the journalism sphere, seeing as this story is something every parent affiliated with this school should be hearing. Go. Now!”

—————————————-

Kamoshida held the phone to his ear, as he spoke quietly into the speaker. The grounds were practically empty, and he felt comfort in the lack of listening ears around him.

“Obviously, I’m going to have to throw that kid, Yuri, under the bus! I wanted him to get rid of the little criminal- promised him my protection and everything! But of course he runs off the second a bystander shows up- in what? Sunglasses and a bandana. Give me a break! I leaked his record to Mishima after prying it out of the Principal, but of course, that stupid program is all that matters. Even the little freak shows up to school on time- acting like some diligent student. Even that dick taking care of him is a thorn in my damn side. The little freak assaults someone in his little nowhere hick town, hangs out with that bastard Sakamoto, and has the balls to chat with my girl in the Underground Walkway? Something that I had to hear from some second hand gossip from some vapid schoolgirls in front of a goddamn vending machine,” Kamoshida paused, “the Principal wants to see me, I’ll head over there soon. It’s likely just some idiotic pre nationals chat.”

On a vantage point above his dark curly head, stood a small furry body- unafraid and unbothered by the suddenness of events. His fur bristled in the wind and his whiskers were tickled by the steady stream of lukewarm air that lightly touched his face.

“Kamoshida,” Morgana said to himself, “your days are numbered.”

———————————————————-

Later That Evening

He remembered everything from that day.

“You know, what’s so funny? Ryuji acts so tough- with a moron of a mother and an abusive alcoholic dumbass as a dad. Let’s take bets on if he’ll meet them both in the middle. Shall we? His mother can barely handle a part time job- no wonder he can’t afford-”

CRACK.

Ryuji couldn’t stop screaming.

He felt like such a baby- wailing as he felt his knee bone exit the prison of skin and be exposed to the warm autumn air. His teammates, after far too long, those that were probably too optimistic to believe that Ryuji couldn’t possibly singlehandedly ruin Track, and their carefully planned futures, carried him to the nurses office. Where we would be transferred to the hospital and into his mother’s arms. He cried into her shoulder, hard, his throat crackling with every sob: every pang of pain a reminder of every shriek, cry, and yelp he made on his journey to the itchy white hospital bed.

“I heard you, you know? As soon as it happened. I heard that snap in my heart, in my spirit. I knew, I just knew that my boy- my son- needed me. That he was hurt,” she held back a sob.

“He talked about you, Ma. About Dad. He said some nasty things. Some cruel things. He left me there to watch my teammates entire practice before letting them carry me to the nurse’s office. I couldn’t move, I could only… cry. I’ve never felt so helpless. So scared. They’ll hate me. Everything I worked for, he took! He took it from me. That- that bastard!” Ryuji and his mother held each other for what seemed like forever- for what seemed like the first time since Dad left.

He remembered that feeling. That emotion.

He saw it in one of the few people that showed him kindness, lying on the ground, covered in cuts and bruises.

He saw it in Ishiguro.

He saw it in Anne.

He would protect Akira. He would protect them all.

He could do it, as long as he took down that bastard Kamoshida.

 

Ryuji felt something pulsing through his bloodstream. Something so weightless, so foreign, it felt like it was pounding in his blood.

He saw the lightning in his palms, it looked like electric sparks, but it seemed like hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOJIRO!!! HOLY SHIT. I was not expecting to write a Sojiro v. Kamoshida scene. Sojiro literally handed everyone their ass!!! I’m here for it!!!!!!
> 
> Also, you guys, Ryuji ;-; 
> 
> I never expected to write him like this. Poor boy!!!! 
> 
> Will be accepting applications in comments for the Sojiro Sakura Protection Squad. 
> 
> Comments are absolutely appreciated- would love to hear from you guys! <3 :)


	6. Tendrils of Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author smiles innocently and says nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out goes to Hyperdragon97 who explained to me that I screwed up Akira’s power from the game. 
> 
> Whoops! 
> 
> However, I combined it into my plot line and I think my mess up actually makes my story a lot better... 
> 
> But that depends on your version of better ;)

Chapter Six

It’s easy to submit yourself to despair.

Akira felt his eyes absently stare into the near empty street, watching the wind lightly lift various leaves and random papers and skip them, like rocks, down the pavement.

His jaw felt as though it was wired shut. His eyes felt heavy and weak. He wanted to go back to sleep.

Every time, Akira attempted to lay down. He could swear he felt the presence of those boys above him: leering down at his broken body as if he were a fresh kill. He was tired, and broken, but alive.

Kurusu knew deep down, that he was going to formally request to drop out from Shujin, knowing full well he wasn’t going to be accepted anywhere else. Perhaps it would be better that way. He would find some measly paying job that offered him just enough to get by and exist on the margins of the world he once knew. Maybe he’d fall in love, maybe he would live alone. Maybe he was growing too optimistic for a future filled with failure, or perhaps he was growing too pessimistic for the present.

A knock.

“Akira? It’s me, Sojiro. I got you some curry.”

Akira stood up in an attempt to greet him, but found Sojiro already there and frowning.

“You shouldn’t be standing and milling about up here. You need to rest. Doctor’s orders.” Sojiro said.

“Easier said than done.” Akira commented, plopping himself down once more.

“I know it must be hard. You sustained quite a bit of cuts and bruises on your abdomen and back. But the doctor was able to basically mummify your injuries. You’re practically swimming in antibiotics.” Sojiro rationalized.

“But it hurts, man. It hurts a lot.” Akira muttered.

Sojiro was got closer to the boy and attempted to place a reassuring arm on his shoulder, before aborting that idea entirely. “I can get you some more—”

“A different kind of hurt, Sakura-san. I had a nice girlfriend, two loving parents, a cushy part time job, and grades that other students would’ve killed for. My mom spent an evening gluing magazine cutouts of prestigious schools in Japan on a map. She told me the sky was my limit. Now she wonders if I’ll even graduate. I did the right thing,” he felt the tears, like needles, prick against his waterline, “and they hate me for it. They want me gone.”

Sojiro removed his glasses and looked down. “Look kid, I know I wasn’t exactly the nicest guy to you when you got here. Matter of fact, I was a bit of an ass. But you’re a good kid. A smart one. Your parents- I called them-”

Akira looked down, wiping away the tears that began to glisten on his cheekbones. “They aren’t coming.”

Sojiro sighed. “They said that they needed to take care of things back home.. and they wanted you to, and I’m quoting them here, “deal with the consequences of your actions.” Don’t they know what you did was right?”

“I think they want people to slowly forget that I was there. I guess they’re right to.” Akira said dejectedly.

Sojiro stood up. “Look, I’m about to call Kosei Academy to see if they’ll take you. Apparently they have a soft spot for talent, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ll change their minds now that Shujin royally shat the bed. But you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself. This is your second change. These kids, who were supposed to “love” you and bow at your feet- the girls who were supposed to fawn over you and the boys who were supposed to seethe with jealously, they don’t give a shit anymore. They’re terrified of you. They don’t like you. It’s up to you to change that. It’s up to you to emancipate yourself from this scarlet letter and do something with your life. This could be a death sentence or this could be a blessing in disguise. I have seen men less than you wade through shit and pain and still rise in the end. Fight, Akira. You keep fighting and I promise I will have your back. But I need to see effort. Got it?”

Akira looked at his socks. “I got it, Sakura-san.”

“Call me Boss,” Sojiro began, “I’m tired of you being so formal.”

———————————————————

Ann Takamaki

“Is this your painting?” The black haired girl asked.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a self portrait.” Ann said, with a slight smirk.

“It’s really ugly.” The other girl said bluntly, before going back to her canvas and dipping her paintbrush in the cup and continuing.

Ann looked back at the canvas, trying to dissect the parts of it that this strange girl didn’t like.

“Wow. I can’t believe Shiho said that to Ann.” A voice stated.

“Yes, another began, “how unnecessarily cruel.”

Ann felt her mouth tilt into a smirk.

That statement was entirely necessary.

———————————————————- 

Ann sat on the half wall of the courtyard, ignoring the flood of texts that Kamoshida as she scrolled through the school’s forum. She couldn’t believe how brazen some people could be under the veil of a stupidly constructed username.

Gokuboy77: He got what he deserved, tbh.

Nowhere-Bound: Can’t believe he got those boys expelled, when he should be the one expelled… Shouldn’t have been here in the first place.

XxLoserkid99xX: Totally pwned- I hope he doesn’t come back ever.

 

She saw Shiho awkwardly walk over toward her and collapse onto the wall.

“Shiho,” Ann cried out, “what happened to you?”

Shiho smiled weakly. “We had a particularly difficult practice yesterday. Please don’t worry.”

Ann raised her eyebrow and made a face, “obviously that’ll just make me worry more! You really need to take a break!”

The other girl ignored her and glanced at Ann’s phone screen. “Jeez, it’s all they ever talk about. Poor guy.”

“I know,” Ann began, falling into the trap of changing the subject, “I spoke to him once. He seems nice, just misunderstood.”

“You feel a kinship with him, don’t you? I know you far too well.” Shiho said with a knowing grin.

“Ugh, it’s totally not like that!” Ann yelped.

“I wasn’t suggesting it was! But now you got me a little suspicious.” Shiho replied, taking the phone out of Ann’s hands.

After scrolling for a couple of moments, she spoke up again. “Looks like CherryxBlossom is at it again. I wonder who that is?”

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Let me see!” Ann cried, before pulling her head back up with disgust.

“What is with them? Posting a picture like that of him being carried in, by Ryuji no less.”

Shiho raised an eyebrow. “Ryuji? Oh right! I didn’t think they were friends.”

A phone call rang out from Ann’s sweatshirt pocket, but she knew to ignore it. She knew exactly who it was.

Shiho looked at her, puzzled. “Shouldn’t you get that? You probably don’t want to miss any modeling gigs.”

Ann slid her hand into her phone and silenced it. “They can wait.”

“Oh,” Shiho began, “listen, I really got to go to practice. Since I’ve been promoted to starting position, I really have to work hard. A lot harder than I am now.”

“Shiho, I-”

The ringing of her phone, distracted her from finishing her sentence and, Shiho stood up and started walking away.

Ann felt her blood raise in temperature as she slid the phone out of her pocket and answered it.

“What?” Her voice was frigid.

“I need to see you.” He replied.

“I can’t. I’m busy and I think I might be coming down with something.”

“Bullshit. I need you to come over after practice. Some fucking miscreant on my team falsely reported me to the police. Kobayakawa is letting me stay to orchestrate practice, but I’ve got some added shit to deal with.”

“Listen, I’m busy!” Ann reiterated, “To be frank, you’ve brought this all on yourself. I’ve seen Shiho after practices. No other sports team has their team members in that bad a shape.

Kamoshida laughed, “oh yeah? Please tell me which ones are just as successful or more successful than the volleyball team? I’ll wait. I need to see you. You know what happens if I don’t.”

“I’m busy, Kamoshida. You wouldn’t do that to Shiho. She’s one of the best players on the team. That’ll hurt you, too.” Ann replied, hanging up right after her last sentence.

She felt her upper body collapse into her thighs as she curled up. That asshole knew exactly what he was doing. She hated him. She hated him so much. But Shiho…

“Ann,” a voice cried out, “you okay?”

“Since when do you care, Ryuji?” Ann spat.

“I never really stopped caring, man. We used to be friends back in middle school, you know,” he laughed, “looks like we both stand out like sore thumbs now.” He gestured to his blonde hair- now slightly orange looking.

She laughed, but her laugh was more hollow than anything. “You wouldn’t understand. It sounds stupid to even say it out loud.”

“It’s Shiho, isn’t it? I noticed she’s not looking too good. I know she’s your best friend. I can tell it must be hard for you.” The boy replied.

Ann couldn’t stop the tears that slowly dripped from her eyes- like they were escaping from a leaking faucet.

“Let’s get you to somewhere else. Someplace safe, alright? I don’t like seeing a lady cry.”

Ann looked down at her overturned palms that rested on her kneecaps. “Nowhere is safe, Ryuji. You of all people should know that by now.”

——————————

Ann Takamaki

Continued

The bell above the red door frightened the shit out of Ryuji.

“Calm down, you moron.” Ann stated, before feeling momentarily guilty for the venomous sound of her voice.

The older man wiping away at the mahogany countertops merely chuckled as he continued to work the white rag around his coffee making instruments.

“Sakura-san, I’m Ryuji Sakamoto. I got money for Ann, so I hope you don’t mind that I brought her along.”

Sojiro looked up and adjusted his glasses. “Nonsense, it won’t set me back any to make her a bowl of curry. Please take a seat. Oh, and call me Boss. I hate formality.”

Ryuji laughed awkwardly. “Sure thing, Boss! Is Akira upstairs?”

Sojiro nodded. “Placed in involuntary bed rest while I sort this school situation out. I’ll probably see if he’s able to come down here for dinner. He’d be mad he missed you two.”

Sojiro disappeared to the stove and began to fixate on the obnoxiously large curry pot that was placed on top of it.

Ann began to fiddle with the napkin that laid discarded on the booths table. She spoke softly. “He wanted me to come over after practice. I think you can guess why…”

She paused, batting away at another tear. “I keep telling myself that I’m pretending to be interested in him for Shiho’s sake. But, he’s really creeping me out. I-I don’t know what to do. I’m really scared, Ryuji.”

Ryuji ran his hand through his messy blonde hair, before sighing. “Shiho would want to earn her spot honorably. She’d hate that you were put in this position, Ann. You can’t let him get away with this.”

Ann narrowed her eyes. “But you know what they think of me, right? One girl isn’t going to bring down Kamoshida. Especially me.”

“A volleyball team member filed a report with the police! He’s being investigated.” Ryuji replied.

“How long before that gets dismissed, Ryuji? How long before Shujin bats that away for their golden boy. One report doesn’t hold weight.”

Ryuji paused for a moment. “We’ll make it hold weight then! We’ll find people willing to turn!”

They heard the creaking of the stairs behind them, and found themselves staring at Akira, who was awkwardly clinging to the staircase. He was wheezing and fumbling downward.

“Akira! Let me help.” Ryuji exclaimed as he sprang up to meet the raven haired boy.

Akira merely waved him off and maneuvered himself into the booth next to Ryuji.

“Hey,” Ann began, reaching her hand over to him, as a means of providing comfort, “I am so, so sorry that this happened to you.”

Akira looked down at the various white scratches that dotted the surface of the table. His eyes met her. His left eye was purple and blue and, just, painful looking. She couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of pity.

“It’s okay. I-I should’ve known better. I don’t know if I’m coming back, Sojiro wants me to transfer, but I doubt any school will take me in.” Akira replied.

Ryuji frowned. “Someone will, dude! Or you can always just come back! I’m sure everything will be alright.”

“That’s what I thought before, though. Look at me now! They saw us with Ishiguro-kun, Ryuji. They got the wrong idea.” Akira said.

“Woah! Is that why Ishiguro-kun wasn’t in school for two days? Apparently he got hurt.” Ann asked.

Ryuji shrugged. “We took him to a clinic.”

She began fiddling with her icy blonde pigtails. “That was quite nice of you too, although I’m sorry you got burned because of it. I told Shiho you seemed nice. I wish other people could see you the way that I do. Misunderstood, you know?”

“Well, enough about me,” the black haired boy began, “what about you? Are you okay?”

Ann sighed. “I’ll tell you too,” she said before Sojiro placed curry bowls on the table.

She could smell the blend of spices and flavor immediately, and it made her stomach growl. Ann didn’t even know she was that hungry until then. She lightly slid her finger across the black rim of the plate, picking up a misplaced drop of curry with her index finger. Upon tasting it, she instantly grabbed for her utensils and, thanked Sojiro profusely.

All three kids began to silently gorge themselves on the curry as if they hadn’t eaten in days. It was sweet, but spicy. Ann noted how you could eat as much as you felt like, without reaching for a glass of water. It was thick, but easy to eat. Boss had curry making down to a science.

“This is, like, so good.” Ann exclaimed.

“Akira, if I was in your shoes I’d eat this for breakfast, lunch and dinner!” Ryuji said, a droplet of curry staining his chin as he spoke.

“Ryuji, you’re getting it everywhere!” Ann scolded like a mother, before exploding into a fit of giggles.

She continued. “I haven’t laughed this hard in a while.”

Ann couldn’t help, but descend back into the overwhelming sense of despair she felt as she looked back at Akira, who was staring into the empty plate as if he was searching for a revelation.

She recanted her story to Akira, who was making intense eye contact with her, as if he was processing all of her memories through her blue eyes.

“So, I’m screwed, right?”

“Although it sounds like a crap shoot, I agree with Ryuji. We should investigate and round up witnesses and report our findings to the police. You and Shiho, throw in a couple of testimonies from other students, there is no way they would overlook that. I’m especially attached to that plan because of how bad Shujin would look, you know? Maybe that’ll teach that idiot of a principal he had more problems to deal with than me.” Akira said as he shifted uncomfortably.

Ann turned to Ryuji, “listen I have to go, it’s getting dark.”

Akira stood up to let Ryuji out and attempted to smile at the two. “I hope that I’ll see you guys again. You can always come back to visit.”

Ryuji stood up and stretched. “Hell yeah I am! That curry was awesome!”

Ann pulled out her phone and handed it to Akira. “I’d love to get your contact info to update you on what’s going on with Kamoshida. Also I’m sure Shiho would like to speak with you as well.”

Ryuji frowned. “You’re not going back to visit Kamoshida are you?”

Ann shook her head. “I’m going to get an early night after I do some homework. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll walk you to the station, then. We still take the same connection to Shibuya, right?” Ryuji asked with a smile.

“Right! Thanks, Ryuji.”

Ann and Ryuji departed from the cafe after thanking Boss again for the delicious meal.

The air was cooler and Ryuji instinctually adjusted his blazer to counteract the early Spring air.

“I don’t like I’ve been here before.” Ann said, as she stared into the night sky, “it’s quite beautiful.”

“I know I just ate, but the smells from all of the restaurants is making me so hungry.” Ryuji whined.

“Typical Ryuji,” Ann teased, “always thinking about food.”

The two of them laughed amongst themselves as they continued into the train station. They hopped onto the train to Shibuya and, rather than put on headphones, they caught up with one another. Ann didn’t know how much she missed the nostalgia of taking to the, rather, abrupt and loud runner she knew in middle school. It felt almost predestined that he’d pop back into her life in one of the most difficult moments she could fathom.

She stepped out onto the platform of the underground walkway and turned to speak to him.

“I’ve got about fourteen minutes to kill before my train. Do you think it’ll take that long for me to grab a-”

Her phone rang immediately, and she pulled it out and hit the decline button. “I seriously need to block his number one of these days.”

“Seriously, I don’t think he’s ever going to let up. It’s incredibly creepy. Does he know that there are actually women his own age that he can date?” Ryuji responded, pulling out his phone.

“Tell me about it. Men like him are so creepy.” Ann said, before her phone began to ring again, much to her dismay.

He left her a voicemail soon after.

“Hey, I know you’re not hungry, but I definitely need a snack for when I get home.” Ryuji started,” come on! I know you got some time to kill.”

“Hey! You still owe me cash from that school trip we took in middle school!” Ann cried.

“Is that your way of telling me to buy you somethin’?” The boy said, with a laugh.

“Yup.” Anne replied. 

“Okay! Okay!” He said, as he approached the vending machine.

Once they received their snacks, Ann checked the time for her train.

“Time flies when you’re forcing the school’s delinquent to buy you snacks.” Ann commented as she took a swig of her lite soda.

“And you just about cleared me of a pocket money. Are you sure there isn’t a black hole where your stomach should be?” Ryuji said, as he checked his wallet.

Ann smacked him in the shoulder.

Her phone gave off a text tone. She ignored it.

“Jeez, why is he so obsessed? I turned off my phone before coming to the cafe. He should know he can’t reach me. D-do you think I’ll be okay Ryuji?”

Another text tone.

“Hey, I’m sure everything will be just fine, Ann. I promise.” Ryuji said that with so much gumption that Ann couldn’t help but believe him.

She reached out and hugged him, as her train reached the platform, sending a wave of hot air cascading over them.

A voice from across the station cried out. “What the hell is going on here?”

Ann turned to find Kamoshida with his phone out, as if he had just completed his 99 millionth text to send to her.

“Leave her alone, you creepy bastard!” Ryuji yelled, taking a confident stride toward the belligerent gym teacher.

“Ryuji! Stop!” Ann exclaimed, grabbing him back toward her and the train.

“I’ll break your other fucking leg, you piece of shit! I own Shujin, you’re finished! You hear me! You’re finished!”

Ann yanked Ryuji into the subway doors, and watched with relief as they shut before Kamoshida could jump onto it. They watched him scream with anger on the station, throwing his hands up, like a child during a temper tantrum.

Ryuji was staring into his palms, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Thanks for sticking up for me.” She said, with a reassuring smile and a hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything, and she felt a bead of sweat form on her brow.

“Listen, I’m sure you can find a train that goes to your neighborhood. I’m sorry, but I didn’t want you to get into a fight with him. I need your help to ruin his career and reputation, remember?”

“ ’s okay, Ann.” He said dejectedly, as he stared out of the subway window opposite him.

“Everything will be okay.”

——————————-

Ryuji Sakamoto

“Twenty minutes!” Ryuji cried out, “I’m lucky I’ll make it home by the skin of my teeth!”

Ryuji collapsed onto the bench in the subway station, with an opened bag of chips on his lap. He felt like a prophet of sorts, knowing that he’d need snacks when he did.

He wanted to walk Ann to her apartment, but she waved him off with the promise that she would text him later. It was probably better that way. He’d need to be here in case his train arrived earlier than expected. It was a rarity, but it happened before.

He heard the radio station cackling through the speakers. It was a recanting of the top stories.

“Sicknesses have been growing to a record number. No one particularly knows why, but the number of physicians and even doctor’s visits have soared from last year. Also, the new Detective Prince Goro Akechi has made some serious headlines with the arrest of a known thief who targeted priceless sculptures from art museums across Tokyo. This leads all of us to wonder, what will Akechi-kun solve next? We have included some sound bites from a press conference he held earlier today…”

Ryuji tuned out the radio as he continued to eat his snacks. He noticed a body casually walk into the empty station and sit on a bench across from him. He turned to look, both relieved and disappointed it wasn’t the gym teacher from hell looking for a round two. He had a little trick up his sleeve now, Ryuji figured he could take him on.

The boy was roughly his age, with a stylish haircut. He turned to face Ryuji with a smile, before noticing his uniform with widened eyes.

“You’re from Shujin, right?” The other boy asked, his blue eyes staring at the bright white emblem of Ryuji’s blazer.

“Depends on who’s asking.” Ryuji replied.

“I’m looking for a group that targets high schoolers.”

“I heard of ‘em. There was some talk about them on the forums.” Ryuji replied.

“Forums?” The other boy asked.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

The blue eyed boy shook his head.

“Why you looking for ‘em?” Ryuji asked.

“I want them to stop.”

“Tall order.”

“I can handle it. I’ve handled myself in fights before.” The blue eyed boy said.

“Well you shouldn’t just focus on them and also look into that asshole Kamoshida. He could also use being put down a peg.” Ryuji commented, flippantly.

“Kamoshida… He ordered a bunch of dudes to assault an acquaintance of mine. What else do you know about him?” The boy asked as he neared Ryuji.

“Holy shit… Could it be Akira? Tall, lanky, curly hair? He told them to assault him? But Akira said that was because one of ‘em saw us walking with Ishiguro!” Ryuji cried out.

“That was probably the half of it.” The other boy replied.

Ryuji looked at the other boy’s outfit and noticed the yellow bandana and shades. “Wait, are you?”

“Crap, I really got to get better at not wearing my costume around willy nilly.” Morgana spat to himself.

“I-I can help you,” Ryuji exclaimed, “if you help us. You’ll have me on your side, we can work together to make Tokyo a better place- starting with Kamoshida.”

The raven haired boy laughed, “and why would I do that?”

“I gotta gift.”

“Like your friend?”

Ryuji laughed. “I’d like to think it’s a little bit cooler than his.”

——————

“So,” Morgana began, “you must be careful.”

Ryuji laughed, “I know: with great power comes great responsibility and all that shit.”

“No, I’m being dead serious,” Morgana said gruffly, “how you are cognitively affects your power.”

“No shit?” Ryuji asked, with almost caricature-like widened eyes.

“Push a person with an ability the wrong way and they get more powerful, with the downside being that the power is warped, unsustainable, and uncontrollable.” Morgana explained.

“And you know this how?” Ryuji cried out.

“I don’t know, I just do. I don’t remember anything passed waking up in the warehouse with the homeless population. They all thought I hit my head and forgot who I was. The weird thing is that I remember a lot about what powers are and stuff. It’s really strange.” Morgana looked down, with a sad expression.

****

In his bedroom, miles away from Ryuji and Morgana, awoke Akira. He felt his body being weighed down with sweat as he struggled to recall the nightmare he had mere moments ago.

_“Everyone with an ability, has a duel opposite. A dark half. Think of it like day and night. You can’t have one without the other.”  Morgana began._

Akira felt his hands start to burn, only this time, he felt it afflict his skin like a virus. He couldn’t help but scream as he ran down to the bathroom, hoping a steady stream of water would calm whatever it was down.

_“Are there a lot of people like us out there, Morgana? Ryuji asked._

Akira looked into his palms, seeing the flames he was used to grow darker and darker as if they weren’t even fire at all. It was oil slick black and terrifying: a new form of violence afflicted onto him. Even his gift had turned on him.

_“I only know of you, me, and Akira. I thought I was the only one.”_

“Someone help me! I’m burning! I’m burning!” Akira felt his screams dull his vocal chords as he howled for relief in the corner of the piss yellow bathroom.

_“The gift begins to corrupt the host. I like to call it: a shadow. A darkened reflection of the user’s true self and their cognition.”_

Akira watched as the veins of his arms slowly grow just as corrupted as his palms, as his head leaned back into the crevice of the bathroom wall. There was something completely agonizing about this experience, but there was something within it that make him feel that he could take on the world. Something within him that wanted to answer the call of revenge.

Starting with Yuri.


	7. Reputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tragedy occurs, leaving despair in its wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things really heat up in this chapter. 
> 
> TW: suicide attempt

Chapter Seven

Akira Kurosu

When Akira awoke, he was still in the bathroom. With the assistance of the bathroom sink, now cold due to the blaring air conditioner above, he stood on shaky knees.

He opened the door, his stomach churning with the high pitch squeak as it flung open. He peered out of it, afraid to find the suns rays filtering through the front door, but instead, he found that it was still dark out. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Akira stretched and yawned, trying to avoid the mechanisms in his mind attempting to unravel the events that happened to him, in his recollection, mere moments ago. He felt sick.

He decided, quite decisively, that the unease in his gut was a side effect attributed to Takemi’s medicine. What he had done in the bathroom was just a dream. Just something so incredibly fucked up and so unlike him that it couldn’t possibly be true. He slowly sauntered upstairs and collapsed onto the bed. He found himself back in the realm of dreams and far from any harm.

His alarm went off at 6:30, causing him to awaken once more. He shuffled to his feet and got into his normal outfit- jeans and a black crew neck, before walking downstairs, he greeted Boss with a feigned cheery “hey, Boss” before sitting at the bar. Sojiro looked as though he was just about to head to a funeral. His face was pale and his mouth was contorted into a frown.

“Kid, both Kosei and your probation officer called. I got bad news.”

Akira’s heart felt as if it were about to burst in his chest.

“Your probation officer thinks its high time you go back to school. Kosei called a couple of minutes ago, they claim that they’ve too many students. No other schools seem to be accepting transfers, or at least, they’ve just got shitty receptionists. You’re stuck at Shujin for the time being. I’m meeting my journalist regular today and I’ll be tracking down the rest of the academies, but I think you’re stuck in Shujin, kid. I’m really sorry.” Boss replied, avoiding eye contact as he poured ingredients into the curry pot.

Akira blinked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Boss. I think maybe I should-”

Sojiro was quick to cut him off. “You’re going back. I know you’re scared, Kurosu, but you can’t forfeit your future because some of some punks.”

“I understand, Sir.”

That was a lie.

Akira couldn’t possibly imagine why Sojiro would care. All he’d have to do is let Akira slack off and then throw his ass on the nearest train out of Tokyo. No one, not even his parents, would care.

The boy sighed and went back upstairs. He slowly put on his school uniform, taking great care to not aggravate his injuries, and grabbed his cellphone. He almost went to search for his glasses, before remembering that they were a casualty from the fight. Akira felt incomplete without this aspect of his disguise. He could hear the bubbling of curry downstairs and it made him even hungrier than usual. His eyes ached and his head felt as if it was swimming in an intense and over-encumbering fog. He looked back to the sole mattress on his bedroom floor, covered with a thin blanket and topped with a lumpy old pillow that still smelt like cigarettes and coffee beans after numerous washes at the local laundromat and couldn’t fathom why he wanted to be nestled within it once more.

Sojiro was shiftier than usual as Akira shoveled “breakfast” into his mouth. It was almost as if there was a role reversal.

“Still good with me telling everything to the journalist? He won’t publish your name, but your classmates will know it’s you.” Sojiro asked.

“Yes, I’m fine with it,” he paused,” “Are you alright, Boss?” Akira asked.

“Waiting on a phone call, Kid.” Sojiro replied.

“One of your lady friends? You know, the ones allowed to sit in your front seat.” Akira said, almost deadpan- like he was reading from a script.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. Eat up. You got a train to catch.”

Akira took two more bites before backing away from the barstool he occupied. ‘There’s the Sojiro, I remember.’ He thought as he opened the door and entered into the desolate street, still hazy from the early morning dew.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of heaviness that was unusual. It was as if there was a spark of life in the shadow that danced on the walls of empty businesses and gaping alleyways. His gut felt as if it was teetering on a tightrope. He couldn’t help but glance at his fingers- cold and pale- as if he was waiting for them to do something. He didn’t know what he was so scared of, and that just made everything seem worse.

It sucked.

It sucked so bad.

—————————————

SIU Headquarters

The director was on his usual perch, but this time, he couldn’t help but stare at the cellphone in his right hand as if it would rip it clean off.

He was expecting a call and it wouldn’t be a pleasant one.

One ring.

He answered it right away.

“Hello. I hope you’re doing-”

After 40 years of interrogations and case files, nothing frightened the director. Only this voice sent a shiver down his spine. Only this one made him terrified.

“I know it’s not ideal, but if we shake her, we’ll be unstoppable. The investigator will find nothing wrong, and the Heiress will either be convinced that nothing is wrong or she won’t have any ground to launch another investigation- despite her friends and benefactors in the Diet Building. This could very well be a positive.”

The other caller was undeterred and continued a barrage of insults and curse words.

“Please, please. Let me fix this. I know it’ll be tight for a few months, your little trick up your sleeve will need to be more careful. Our operation will need to be radio silent, but I doubt whoever she hired will be that good. I bet they’ll be bored out of their wits with the lack of activity! Besides, I’ll have Niijima be their liaison. If she doesn’t send them packing, no one will.”

 

——————————————

Ann Takamaki

Secrets-of-Shujin: I saw Akira on the train in uniform

misscrimson: I saw him 2

-____-49382: noooo of course no 1 would accept him

misscrimson: why doesn’t he just leave already

volleyballgirl: you need to stop bullying him

volleyballgirl: he was beaten up because of you guys immediately judging him. It’s really pathetic. I hate this school so much.

The page updated.

misscrimson: he was just sulking cuz he got a taste of his own medicine. Miss me with this “lets be nice” shit volleyballgirl!!!! >:[

Anne went to the speech box and typed away on her phone keyboard.

RoseRed: he’s actually really nice, you know, if you actually took the time to know him. His situation is complicated and PERSONAL. Whoever leaked his file needs to come forward. There are people in Shujin who are doing things much worse.

Ann signed out of the forum and allowed her phone to go into rest mode.

She leaned back and took in the cold air. After the whole situation with Ryuji, Kamoshida stopped texting her. It made her happy to be free from his constant barrage of texts and his subtle manipulations. Kamoshida always pretended to be smarter than he actually was. Ryuji, on the other hand, was so concrete in who he was and his own limitations that it was incredibly refreshing to be hanging out with him again. Even with black hair, Ryuji would be the first to admit he wasn’t exactly top of the class material, and that’s exactly what Ann liked about him. She saw value in his simplicity.

She saw a group of girls giggling and pointing as they headed toward their homerooms, but Ann merely rolled her eyes. She stood out and was an easy target. Her comment about Akira was not only about him, but about her too. Everyone was so quick to judge, but not to listen or to learn. In another reality, she had friends. A group of girls- besides Shiho who would go shopping and eat lunch with her. She imagined them buying accessories and talking about all the dates that they’ve been on. Ann would have male admirers. But they wouldn’t be gross and they wouldn’t talk about her the way the boys did in the real world. They’d talk about her like she was a princess. She tried to imagine a place in this new reality for Ryuji- he’d never have been hurt by Kamoshida. He’d still be running and he’d be a huge star. She imagined him so happy and carefree that it almost took her out of her daydream to see him so out of character.

She noticed another group of students- this time- a group of guys stare at her as if she were some sort of clown. She stared back at them with a hint of anger in her eyes. What was going on here?

She clicked on the forum app and, against her better judgement, typed in her name in the search bar. A post from ten minutes prior was the first hit. CherryxBlossum was the poster. Her stomach churned like rotten milk.

There was no actual text, but a photo of her and Ryuji hugging. In the moment, a hug seemed like the natural thing to do. She missed him, and he made her feel better after a horrible day. But in that angle. Without any context and without the knowledge of the embrace’s brevity, it took on a life of it’s own, even if the hug wasn’t so scandalous in real life. The comments were brutal.

If they weren’t screaming about her “infidelity” and her reputation they were writing downright cruel comments about Ryuji. One particular one was branded into her mind like a tattoo. “I want Kamoshida to beat him like Yuri beat Akira.”

She stared at it in almost disbelief. Her peers treated the lives of those deemed unworthy and below them like some sort of soap opera they could spectate on. Like a game.

“But it’s not a game!” Ann cried out, before realizing she was actually saying those words out loud.

She looked around to see if anyone caught her in this embarrassing moment, and she found a singular entity. Who was trapped in their own alternate reality to notice.

“Shiho!” Ann cried out, looking at her friend with a sense of shock.

She looked even more worse for wear, if that was at all possible.

The other girl immediately turned away.

“I have to go Ann. I’m sorry. I-I gotta go.”

Ann tried to stop her, but was too late. Shiho already closed the door and entered the atrium of the school. Leaving Ann alone once again.

She looked at the photo before turning off her phone completely.

In an alternate reality, their moment of happiness lasted forever.

In that reality, Kamoshida had no power over them.

————————-

Akira Kurosu

“K-Kurosu-kun?” Kawakami looked as if she saw a ghost as the tall boy walked into the faculty office. The other teachers, likely well aware of the gossip, looked at him mouth agape and grasped for straws of conversation to humor the two of them.

“I’m sorry I missed two days, Kawakami-sensei. Would you happen to have any of the work I need to catch up?” Akira asked, dabbing at his dark purple under eye with his index finger.

Kawakami turned to her cluttered desk, littered with cheap food wrappers and stray papers. She plucked a manila folder from underneath a book of short stories and handed it to him. His name was written in a purple pen with a smiley face.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming back. Your guardian seemed dead set on sending you anywhere else.” She said, with a tinge of concern.

“My probation officer and Kosei weren’t too enthusiastic about the amount of school I was missing. I think Sakura-san is going to hunt down some principal’s and councilors from other schools, while I continue my education here. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if I remain here for the rest of the year.” Kurosu replied.

The woman placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it felt more like a restraint than a helping hand. “Go to the nurse’s office and have her check out your injuries, maybe she’ll give you some medicine. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you won’t get in trouble. I know you’re here.”

Seeing as he couldn’t argue, Akira walked toward the Nurse’s office, seeing the clusters of students stare at him like he was some kind of alien.

He heard a girl whisper. “Woah, he forgot his glasses.”

Another replied. “Like a totally different guy. He looks like trouble now without them for sure.”

Akira rolled his eyes and ruffled his hair even more to make up for the absence of his glasses.

He heard a voice cry out his name. He turned to find Kawakami pace over to him.

“I almost forgot,” she exclaimed, as she placed a paper bag in his hand.

“After the fight, I walked over to the alleyway with Kamoshida. I found your old glasses. Broken, of course. I went to the nearest optics store, and found that what you were wearing were costume glasses. Made finding you a replacement much easier.”

Akira pulled out the contents of the bag and found large framed glasses- evocative in style with his original pair, but with more style.

“Sensei, you shouldn’t have.” Akira said, sliding them up his nose bridge before they clicked like a key on the peak of his nose.

“Nonsense,”she averted his eyes from him, “I don’t think I gave you a real shot when you first got here, Kurosu-kun. For that, I am truly and utterly sorry. No matter what, you’re my student first and foremost. You came to a new school, you wore those dinky fake glasses, and tried your best to start over and yet I wouldn’t let you. I can only believe that the other students sensed my hostility toward you which only added to your bad reputation. You’re a good kid, Kurosu-kun. I want to see you succeed- even if you’re only here for a short time. If anyone, and I mean anyone, gives you trouble. Tell me. I’ll take care of it, alright?” She looked to his glasses, happy to see him accept them so quickly.

“All is forgiven, Kawakami-sensei. Thank you so much.” He replied, extending his hand to her. She took it and grasped it, as if they were entering some sort of oath.

He entered the nurse’s office and was immediately ushered to the sectioned off portion of the clinic.

“Your glasses,” she began, “they suit-”

Suddenly he heard the opening of the door as another raven haired student walked in. He remembered the boy from homeroom, but found his face riddled with bruises and bandages so drastically, he almost didn’t recognize him.

The nurse cried out. “Mishima-kun!” She walked over to him.

“How are you feeling? Much better from yesterday?”

The boy avoided eye contact and swatted away her arms. “I feel like I was hit by a semi truck.”

The bell rang.

“Please, take a seat. I’m just helping another student out, but he’ll be ready to go shortly.” She said with a sweet smile before directing her attention back to Akira. 

“Alright, Kurosu-kun, that doctor of yours did a great job, but I need to give you some ice for your ice and-”

Akira didn’t think it was possible for Mishima to get paler, but he watched with awe as his skin went as white as bone. He stood up.

“I gotta go.” Mishima’s eyes were like saucers as he nearly sprinted for the door.

Akira stood up to follow him, before being guided back to the bed by the nurse for the remainder of his treatment.

Akira grimaced. “What happened to him?”

The nurse continued to rifle for her medicine. “It was horrible. You missed it. We were doing a P.E. day for the students and we were doing a volleyball tournament. Kamoshida-kun and the rest of the teachers against students. Mishima was accidentally hit by Kamoshida’s strike, you would think Kamoshida would be a little more careful considering the fact that this is a member of the Volleyball team. Poor kid. He had the wind knocked right out of him.”

Akira took a mental note to corner Mishima as soon as possible. His reaction to seeing Akira was too visceral to be considered normal, no matter how scared his peers were.

When he was allowed to leave, he began to make his way to the second floor.

He felt a body collide with his, making him feel as though he were back in the alleyway. He yelped like frightened animal.

“I’m sorry.” The light voice said.

He looked at his assailant.

“No I’m sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.”

The dark haired girl tried to smile, but she couldn’t,“I don’t think we’ve formally met Kurosu-san-”

“Akira, please. Call me Akira.”

“Akira,” she said, “then call me Shiho.”

Akira’s eyes widened. “Shiho? I heard about you from Takamaki-san.”

“Really? Ann told you about me,” she looked down, “don’t let them get to you, Akira. You’re stronger than you know.”

Akira opened his mouth to ask her about Kamoshida, but when he glanced at her bruised arms and her exhausted expression, he knew he had to hold back.

“Thank you, Shiho.” Akira said.

“I want to thank you beforehand.” Shiho replied.

“What for?”

“You’re going to do great things, Akira. I want you to remember I told you that before anyone else.” She said before ascending the staircase, and letting her words drift in the air around him like dust particles.

——————————————————————

Sojiro Sakura

Sojiro hung up his cellphone. She had called him for the second time in that three hour time frame, demanding curry for dinner.

“He gets unlimited curry! I want in on it too, Soooo-ji-rooooo.”

He didn’t even think to ask her how she possibly knew that.

Sojiro cleaned the mug in his hand, the last school followed up with him. The poor kid was stuck in that shitty school.

The journalist with the local paper was running late, but the man never was on time a day in his life. Usually Sojiro’s regulars were older professionals or local business owners, like Takemi, too lazy to hop on the train to anywhere else. The only outlier was the young prosecutor with grey-blonde hair and an icy demeanor. All of them had a particular time to expect them by, and a particular day as well. This journalist came seemingly whenever he felt like it and never arrived when he was needed.

The bell rang and the journalist sauntered in.

“Kei-kun, there you are.” Sojiro said, turning to his coffee set and pouring in the ingredients.

“Thanks, Boss. You have a scoop? Something about Shujin leaking a criminal record?” Kei asked, cutting to the chase.

“ ‘Course I do.”

Sojiro explained everything from the very beginning. He explained that Akira was arrested for helping a woman from a predatory man, but he manipulated both her and the police to see it from an entirely new angle. He weaved Akira’s tale into that of some sort of tragedy. One that would rip the public’s heartstrings wide open.

Kei was writing away in his notepad, including any morsel of information he could.

“Perfect. This’ll be a great story. Now-”

Kei’s phone started ringing, and he answered it hastily.

Sojiro watched the man’s expression darken. After not even a minute, the man rifled wrinkled money out of his pocket and slam it on the dark oak counter.

“What happened?” Sojiro cried out.”

The journalist looked back at Sojiro briefly, before running to the door. “A girl jumped off the roof at Shujin. The ambulance just got there.”

—————————————————————-

Akira Kurosu

“Shiho!”

Tears rained from Ann’s eyes, staining her face and making it red and blotchy.

She was cradling Shiho’s head before she was forcibly disconnected from her best friend.

“Let me go with her.” She demanded.

“Hurry.”

She hopped into the back of the ambulance with the gurney, the doors closed and the sirens blared.

The students who escaped their classrooms for the macabre show were abuzz with comments. Akira looked to his right, Ryuji, who was looking down and dejected, said nothing. His eyes said everything. Kamoshida. Kamoshida did this. They failed Ann. They failed Shiho. Akira didn’t say anything to Ryuji, as he ran for the bathroom. He felt it in his palms. The power that bubbled beneath the surface was an itch he couldn’t scratch. A fire he couldn’t smother. He slammed against the stall door. His palms burned with a black fog that stung and left his eyes watering.

Yuri, Mishima, Shiho.

They were tethered with red rope to one corrupted source.

Kamoshida.

God, thinking of that bastards name fed the curse with a sense of urgency that caused it to roar rip at his palms.

His eyes began to water as he struggled to harness it. To control it.

There had to be someone in this school who knew Yuri. Someone who kept in contact. He would find Yuri. He would make him pay. His curse would then lead him to Kamoshida. The corruption would spread, it would feed and give way to justice. A justice that would strike fear into the hearts of all those who used power as a means to cause harm to those beneath them.

The curse seemed to really like that.

————————————————

Sae Niijima

“The things I do for a promotion.” She said aloud as he waited for the train. Of course, it was behind schedule, and that merely added to the permanent irritated that festered in between her perfectly groomed brow after her father died.

Mitsuru Kirijo: heir to the Kirijo dynasty. The woman who’s company created half of the products in practically every home in Japan was dipping her toe into this mental shutdown investigation.

Her lap dog was on their way from Osaka to personally investigate, but what truly irritated her was how far the government officials were willing to go along with it.

Ex-detective, Private investigator, head bodyguard for Kirijo herself. These qualifications might lead to an excellent position in any company in Tokyo, but they shouldn’t grant access to a high profile investigation. Even the Director seemed annoyed by the blatant grab for power.

The train finally emerged from the tunnel and out poured the throngs of tourists and visitors. They pushed their ways to the metal stairs behind her, chattering amongst themselves as they clung to heavy bags and cumbersome suitcases.

She noticed a man with silver hair scanning the crowd and she glanced at the message in her phone one last time.

Akihiko Sanada. Above the name was a photo of him, not a particularly good one.

She walked over to the man who was adjusting the red bag that was under his arm.

“Sanada-san,” she began, “I’m prosecutor Sae Niijima with the SIU office.”

The man smiled warmly, “thank you for meeting me here. I’m quite eager to begin my investigation.”

Sae couldn’t help but show her disapproval with her expression. “We have the new Detective Prince Akechi, as well as the entire department looking into this case. What brings you here?”

He looked at her, and it infuriated her how much he didn’t care about her obvious distrust in him, “I’m afraid that’s classified. But anything I find in regards to your case will be shared with you and the proper authorities.”

“You really think you’ll be the one to add something new to the table?” Sae asked.

“That’s what my boss is paying for me to do, Niijima-san.” He said, as he walked toward the stairs.

He looked to her, as he brushed his fingers through his short silver hair. “Where to first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Akihiko and Mitsuru are characters from Persona 3. I added Akihiko into the mix because he’s pretty great. I want to stress that you do not need to have played any of Persona 3 or Arena or anything to do with 3’s cast. I won’t spoil anything, I promise! Especially since this diverges from canon. He’s only there because: 
> 
> A. I need something for Sae and a partner would be perfect and a cool foil for her
> 
> B.) I am shipping trash and they’d be low key cute together- that is if they survive long enough to be an item in this fic. Hahaha 
> 
> For all of you non P3 players, please don’t feel like you’re missing anything if you haven’t played P3, literally I’m choosing to ignore his canon character arc in Arena so he’s basically in OOC territory, to the point in which he could be an OC. 
> 
> For all you who have played P3, enjoy the Easter egg!


	8. After the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamoshida’s final bow approaches...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The: description of an injury- I think it’s a little tame, but if you have a weak stomach and a vivid imagination it might be a little rough!

Chapter Eight

Tae Takemi

 

Early Morning

Before the Fall

There was a method to everything she did.

She would wake up at a certain time every morning, open at a certain time, close at a certain time and be home perfectly on schedule. She was precise in nearly every aspect of her life. Even conversations and interactions with others had a certain formulaic ebb and flow: she’d grab coffee at Leblanc at 6:30pm, she’d jokingly request Sojiro’s recipe for either the curry or his coffee, he’d respond with snark, she’d laugh, look at the tv, and he’d get her a new cup.

There was one growing nuisance, however, and he was laying bruised and battered by the alleyway garbage cans.

“Morgana, I’d say “look what the cat dragged in,” but since you’re literally a cat- I figure you would take me seriously,” she said, with a hand on her forehead.

Morgana groaned. “I’m not a cat! I’m a human! It got nasty, Takemi, I’m sorry. A Shujin girl got jumped my those punks in Shibuya, and there were too many. It was fate considering her skills as a fashion designer.”

“I can’t even run a clinical trial with you in this state, you know!” She bemoaned, unlocking the door and letting him inside.

“Did you say “steak,” Doctor?” The cat boy asked.

She rolled her eyes. “You owe me. I can do renovations on this dump if you ever paid off your running tab.”

“I found a partner, Takemi. Maybe another kid too, but I don’t know that yet. Maybe I won’t get hurt that often with people watching my back!” Morgana explained.

“Or it’ll be more injured morons to patch up...”

——————————————

Akira Kurosu

 

After the Fall

 

Mishima was easy to find. He often had a shifty look in his eyes, as if he had grown accustomed to a life on the run. He’d typically stay at his desk, but on this particular day, Mishima decided to eat by the windows of the hallway- away from the other students. Kurosu couldn’t let the opportunity pass.

He approached Mishima, noting the boy’s facial bandages and bruises, and couldn’t help but be enraged by the blatant abuses laden on his flesh. Did his parents not see these? Did anyone care?

“Mishima-san, how’re you feeling?” He asked the other boy, boxed lunch in hand.

“You,” Mishima began, “I don’t know anything!”

“I wasn’t asking about what you know or what you don’t know, I was just seeing if you were okay. I joined a lot of clubs and sports teams in my old high school, I couldn’t imagine seeing a teammate like that.” Akira said, his words genuine.

“Really? I didn’t take you for the school club type,” Mishima replied.

Akira laughed. “Yep. I was really interested in chess, although I wasn’t particularly the best at it. I always wanted to join the archery club, but that closed down when I arrived at the school. I basically joined a bunch of clubs- even some informal ones- for the fun of it. My parents own a pretty popular joint back in my town, so whenever I got home, I worked, I was barely able to juggle spending time with my girlfriend and my homework, but somehow I managed.”

Mishima’s eyes widened. “You have a girlfriend? Wow, that’s really neat, Kurosu-san! Does she plan on visiting you?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. She’s my ex. She broke up with me shortly before I moved here. Via text. Wasn’t exactly painless.” Akira replied.

“Oh, Mishima said, while avoiding eye contact, “that sucks a lot. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong, Mishima-san.” Akira said.

Mishima went a shade of white unfathomable for normal humans. “Yeah, about that-“

Suddenly, the other boys attention diverted to another entity in the hallway. A large looming figure that entered through the stairwell.

The curse that attached itself to Akira began to pull on the shackles in his lungs, begging to be released.

Kamoshida looked at the boys. “You. Yuuki. This boy hasslin’ you?”

Mishima shook his head vigorously. “No. Not at all. He was just telling me he was sorry about Shiho. He wanted to see how I was holding up.”

The coach laughed. “Oh really? You don’t think he hasn’t caught on yet? He doesn’t know what you did? You’re just as pathetic at keeping secrets as you are on the volleyball team,” Kamoshida turned his attention to Akira, “and you,” he grabbed Akira by the collar and slammed him into the wall, “don’t you dare come near any of my team again, you understand? I don’t want a punk like you breathin’ in their general direction. They are mine. All of them. You just hang with that blonde asshole Sakamoto and continue your miserable existence. Got-“

Suddenly a male voice erupted from the other side of the hallway. “Get your hands off of him right now!”

Kamoshida laughed, “Ryuji, there you are! Want to explain why you were with my girl, you delinquent bastard?”

“It wasn’t like that at all Kamoshida, and you know that!” Ryuji yelled.

Kamoshida let go of Akira, to distracted by the explosive nature of Ryuji, and Akira didn’t take the opportunity for granted. He slammed his foot onto Kamoshida’s and slammed his head into the wall.

“Don’t you dare put your hands on me or anyone else, you fucking creep! I got screwed over by a shitty adult before, and I refuse to get screwed over again! You use your position to feed your ego and I would no sooner die than let that sick cycle continue.”

Kamoshida clutched his head with a flabbergasted expression on his face. “You- you fucking assaulted me! I’ll- I’ll expel you. I’ll expel all of you! I’ll have you arrested, Kurosu! I swear, I’m going to the police station and I’ll end your chances at a normal life, you insolent fool. Believe that!”

Akira only smirked. “And what of Shiho? It was you who drove her to that ledge, if I go down. You go down with me.”

Kamoshida chuckled. “And what proof do you have? I own this school. I own these students. I am king of this fucking castle, Shujin wouldn’t shine the way it does if I didn’t grace these hallways. They were crazy to put me on leave, and they’d be even crazier to fire me!”

Sakamoto approached the cluster of people, waving his phone. “I don’t think they would, after I showed the police the video of Akira being slammed against the wall by you or, even, the mass of abusive and harmful texts you sent before you saw Ann and I at the subway. Takamaki will hand them over gladly, after what you did to her and Shiho. Not to mention Ishiguro!Go, Kamoshida. Run away like the animal you are. Don’t you dare come back.” Ryujisaid.

Kamoshida adjusted his white shirt. “Big whoop. You’re all misfits and losers. They’ll never believe you. Matter of fact, they’ll all think you deserve it.” Kamoshida charged at Ryuji, probably expecting to destroy the evidence through destroying the phone. But Ryuji side stepped, and Kamoshida stumbled over his own feet- startled by the sudden movement, causing himself to crash against the floor with a mighty thud.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He shouted. He attempted to stand, and that’s when they saw his two front teeth protruding through a gaping hole in his lip and chin. Crimson began to flood his sharp chin and jaw line.

“Holy shit!” Ryuji boomed, causing the entire class to rush out into the hallway. Kawakami-sensei started running toward them, as Kamoshida struggled to stand, his left wrist seemed badly bruised during his sudden fall.

Akira couldn’t help but see the parallels between the past event and this current one, and screamed his explanation before Kamoshida could get a word in. “He tripped!”

Ryuji echoed Akira’s sentiments exactly.

Kawakami’s expression remained startled. “What happened, Mish-“

He cut her off. “It’s as they say.”

The coach’s face turned a dark shade of red, like the blood he was losing, as he attempted to concoct a story leagues from the truth. 

“I-“ Akira watched as the coach’s eyes registered the blood that dripped onto his own open palms. He stared at it for a brief moment, before his eyes widened and his knees buckled and collapsed beneath him.

Kawakami screamed, as more people flooded into the hallway, much to the chagrin of the flabbergasted teachers who yelled over the chatter in meager attempts to restore order.

They could only watch as a group of students dragged Kamoshida away from the crowd and down the stairs.

“Kurosu-san. What he said earlier,” Mishima began, “I was the one who leaked your file. Kamoshida made me. He said if he didn’t, he’d hurt me. He’d hurt others. I freaked. I’m so, so sorry.”

The curse in Kurosu didn’t like that Akira only placed his hand on the boys shoulder, as a means of comfort, and not to break it.

———————————-

                     Aoi Harada

 

                    After School

 

Aoi spent her day in a haze, after filing the report. She couldn’t help it. That boy, Morgana, and what he could do. He was more akin to a manga character than an actual person!

She slowly filed through the various fabrics in her arsenal, before realizing that her mother’s skills and tools were likely the only means she had of creating a durable uniform for the young vigilante team. She heard a noise behind her and promptly wiped around, seeing the boy appear behind her from seemingly thin air. He looked injured after his encounter with the gang, but yet he still stood gallantly before her.

“I sketched some designs in class,” she said, as she dumped loose sketchbook papers into his open hands, “tell me what you think!”

Morgana chuckled darkly, “these all look very stylish...”

Aoi began to fumble through her tools drawer for measuring tape. “You’ll need to measure your other two teammates, while I see how I can take the fabric from my mom without clearing her out. It’s heavy duty stuff- used for bodyguards and private security teams for dignitaries, so it might be a little difficult for me, but you definitely need it,” She chuckled, handing over the tape, “measure the other two for me as soon as possible. I have a guide over there with the places you gotta measure. Make sure it’s accurate, otherwise it’ll be too baggy or too tight, which won’t help in a fight.”

Morgana nodded, “are you sure you can get the fabric? I’m assuming it’s very expensive.”

“It is,” Aoi began, “but I already reached out to her. Anyone who takes a punch for me, is automatically in her good graces.”

———————————

                   Ann Takamaki

 

                    After School

 

She pressed the call button from the hospital waiting room, and after multiple rings, found herself irritated that it went to voicemail. She sighed and began, “Ryuji, I know you and I know you’re going after Kamoshida. I want you to know: I want in.”

—————————————

                   Akira Kurosu

 

                    After School

 

“Where’s that damn cat? I saw it a while ago!” The teacher cried out, as he craned his head around the courtyard.

Akira began to search for any mention of Yuri, or any kid he believed could possibly have any connection to the bully. If Kamoshida woke up and called the Principal or anyone affiliated with the school, all three of the boys, and probably Ann, would be royally screwed. That couldn’t happen.

He noticed a boy looking at him from across the courtyard, and ignored him, as he typed in the schools forum into his search engine.

He typed in Yuri’s full name, half expecting nothing to happen.

No search candidate found.

He groaned.

Yuri.

There was a bunch of Yuri on Ice posts and links to reaction gifs for the various episodes- all from one sole poster. He groaned audibly. Asking around for Yuri would only cause eyebrows to be raised, so he decided against it.

He sat down on the half wall and began to ponder. It’s quite possible Yuri was popular, considering the amount of boys who joined him in beating Akira. Was there another boy who wasn’t implicated in the bearings who’d fess up? It was unlikely considering the amount of discussion about the mass expulsions of the group of boys.

Suddenly, a light bulb appeared. He went to the chatbook website and typed in Yuri’s name, and sure enough: a hit. He checked into Shibuya within a timeframe of an hour. He placed his phone on rest mode and ran to catch the nearest train. He’d have to find a makeshift disguise on the way, but that wouldn’t be a problem. First Yuri, then he was going to the hospital to find Kamoshida and get justice once and for all. 

His phone buzzed profusely, but he ignored it. Who ever wanted him had to wait.

“Where is Akira going to in such a hurry?” The cat asked from Ryuji’s school bag.

Ryuji sighed, holding the measuring tape in his right hand, ignoring the fact that it was dragging on the floor, “I dunno man, but we have to find out, before Kamoshida makes his next move.”

 

————————-

                   Yuri Yasuda

 

“He called me today, he has this big plan to get back at Ryuji and Kurosu. Knock them both out of the picture. He wants me to help execute it, but I can’t do it alone. I’m heading over to the hospital to meet with him as he walks to the subway and figure it out. He said he might pull a few strings and get me back to school. What do you mean you won’t help me? I know he wimped out last time, but he was in hot water after Ishiguro spilled to the cops. Everything is fine now. Promise. I don’t care, man. Im putting you down as a maybe. I know you’ll always have my back.”

The boy walked toward the hospital with a spring in his step at the evening air bristled against his face. He noticed Kamoshida’s telltale curly mess of a head charging toward him, and he promptly hung up.

“Shit man, they did that to your face?”

Kamoshida’s chin was stiff due to the massive adhesive bandage that covered it.

“I’ll fucking end them.” Kamoshida said, his speech inhibited by the trauma.

“Will you,” a voice cried out from the darkness, the tall figure approached them, clad in a 100 yen store mask that covered his face, he summoned a darkness from his palms that left the two antagonists stunned and silent, “I’ve been following you, I really think you should learn to use an indoor voice and always check your surroundings. Maybe then you could’ve avoided what’s to come.”

Yuri took a stupidly confident step forward, “oh yeah? Then what’s to come then, you freak?”

The masked assailant chuckled, as both the power and his confidence rose like smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for OC’s!


	9. Kamoshida’s Final Bow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira finally faces off against the sadistic volleyball coach, but will the end result be what he expected?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Akihiko voice:* I’ve Been Waiting For This! 
> 
> Apologies for the delay, I hope you guys enjoy! 
> 
> TW: violence, talk about sexual harassment, physical abuse and suicide.

On that night in April, Suguru Kamoshida took his final bow.

But Akira Kurosu wasn’t the one to do it.

The masked assailant stood before them commanding the black smoke to rise from his fingertips. His voice felt dry and raspy from all of his work to disguise it. He approached them slowly, feeling the beads of sweat rise underneath the uncomfortable mask. He should’ve chosen better.

“I-“ he felt the curse scream in his gut, “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want a confession.”

Kamoshida laughed, “what, do you really think that lame ass mask and your smoke tricks will make me weak? Don’t make me laugh moron.”

Akira’s arm was outstretched, as he directed the searing pain of the monster within out from his body. What emerged, dripped like oil, onto the concrete below, causing it to boil and crackle like bone. He saw embers, like fireflies spill out from the darkness, like rays of hope, easy to squander and forget.

He didn’t want it to consume Kamoshida, although the carnal rage inside of him would disagree, he wanted Kamoshida to feel it. To truly feel some sort of consequence, and for a moment, Akira thought he did.

The older man jumped back from the assailant and fell onto the road, he looked for Yuri only to find the boy turning on his heels and, once again, running. Akira directed the curse to rise before Yuri, causing him to fall like Kamoshida and scamper backwards.

“Now do you understand?” Akira asked.

“W-what do you want?” Yuri asked.

“Didn’t you hear me earlier? I want a confession. I want justice.”

“Why,” began Yuri, “what good is that going to do?”

Akira adjusted his mask awkwardly, “Kamoshida is a disgusting pathetic excuse for a man, let alone a teacher. I want him to confess to his crimes with his own mouth.”

“Talk.” Akira took out the cheap video camera he bought from the second hand store and began filming.

“No,” Kamoshida began, “if you think I’m all of a sudden going to confess to my crimes than you’re wrong.”

Yuri’s face grew damp with tears, “please man, I want to go home. You said-“

Kamoshida looked to him and laughed, “are you crying, you fucking wimp? I would laugh if I didn’t think it was so disgraceful.”

“Please, you promised, man!” Yuri said, crying harder.

The wrath within Akira stabbed at his rib cage in an attempt to dissuade Akira for feeling bad.

“Talk.” He screamed, the curse emerging from his hands once more. 

Kamoshida jumped back, his face agape. “Alright, fine. I-I push those kids. A lot. I threw volleyballs purposefully into Ishiguro’s face and stomach when he was missing the ball,” he craned his head far from Yuri. Who’s eyes were focused on his knees. His head was shaking rapidly as he body heaved.

“I only allowed Mishima to be on the team, so that I could boss him around and use him as an example. I’m surprised it wasn’t him on that rooftop today! I made him leak Akira Kurosu’s file to students, not to damage the little bastards reputation, but to force him into being an example for my team that I own them-“

Akira’s body had to force itself to breathe.

Kamoshida continued, “I abused the male students. But the female ones had it worse. I, God, I-I can’t,”

Yuri stood up from the ground and looked down at the man, once his idol, on the ground. He looked at Akira and back to Kamoshida.

“No, no, you told me, Akira was bad. You said Ryuji and him got to Ishiguro after I texted you what Takeshi told me. I hurt Akira, dude, really bad. Got expelled along with my buddies for no reason?!”

Yuri turned around as if he were leaving, only to turn back around and deliver a harsh kick into Kamoshida’s face.

Akira stepped forward to stop the abuse, but Yuri was already satisfied with Kamoshida holding his face in agony. His pained groaning continued even as Akira attempted to take back control of the situation.

“What did you do to the female volleyball players?” Akira asked.

Kamoshida still covered his face. “I... repeatedly sexually harassed them. Ann Takamaki, a second year student, I tried to manipulate her into... I can’t say it.”

Yuri’s face widened in horror.

“When she avoided me and, another student, Ryuji Sakamoto, a student I personally loathed, comforted her and protected her, I secretly took a photo of them hugging to warp it out of context. She never wanted to be with me. I always made her uncomfortable.Ryuji was to be the track star, but I found out about his father being an alcoholic and his mother struggling to make ends meet. I-I used it against him to make the team go against him. He has a temper, so when he tried to defend his moms honor, I broke his leg. I made everyone hate him because of my own personal grudge.”

Akira could hear sobbing underneath the nest of bulging limbs.

“Shiho,” Kamoshida began, “oh god.”

Akira heard rushing feet approaching them. A familiar female voice screamed out, “what did you do to her?!”

Akira ran toward the sound, and grabbed her. He didn’t dare look at her face, warped with anger and grief. She continued to try to get out of Akira’s hold on her. She was wearing her hood up, likely in a poor attempt to conceal her identity, but everyone knew who she was.

Kamoshida didn’t dare look at her either. “I want to die for what I’ve done.”

Ann suddenly stopped moving. “Don’t you dare.”

Yuri looked at her. “Takamaki-san?”

“Don’t you dare avoid your punishment. What you did to me, what you did to my friends, to my classmates, to- to Shiho. I’ll never forgive you! You used your power to destroy my friends and I hate you!”

She composed herself and spoke once more. “Go to the police. Confess to your crimes. All of them.”

Kamoshida rose up from the ground. “I can’t. I can’t. Dammit.”

Ann took a step toward him, taking Akira along with her. “What did you say?”

Akira looked at the video camera that was dropped, but still recording Kamoshida. Kamoshida saw it too. Kamoshida locked eyes with Akira’s and immediately started running toward the camera, Akira was quick and let go of Ann and immediately lunged his body toward it.

Ann, now aware of what was happening, charged over to Kamoshida, and pushed him, but didn’t get him off balance. Akira secured the camera and looked up at Kamoshida. Kamoshida grabbed Ann by one of her shoulders, and promptly attempted to backhand her with his other hand. Akira yelped, but Ann already seemingly knew what was coming, and scratched his face with her nails, distracting him for delivering a knee into his stomach. Yuri tackled the volleyball coach to the ground, but Kamoshida grabbed him by the waist and threw him headfirst into the concrete. Yuri cried like an injured animal.

Akira felt his body become overwhelmed with a sense of dread. He curled inward. “I’m scared.” He stated out loud, feeling a fever-like heat wash over him.

“Now, you’re scared? You really fucked up now freak!” Kamoshida said, with a laugh.

“I’m not scared of you,” Akira began, “I’m scared of me.” He threw what looked like black matter at Kamoshida, missing him, but the effect was worth it. Kamoshida fell once more, his self preservation kicking in.Ann stared at Akira dumbfounded, before directing her attention back to Kamoshida.

“Ann, stay back!” Akira commanded.

“The hell I am!” She screamed in response, kicking Kamoshida in the back of the head.

Kamoshida groaned once again, before they heard more and more footsteps approaching.

Ann turned to the hospital, brimming with people who were drawn to the commotion outside.

Ann’s eyes widened. “What do we do?”

Akira awkwardly clawed at the mask. “We run!” He clutched onto the video camera and ran toward Yuri.

“Come on, we got to go.” He said, picking up his former nemesis by the shoulders.

“You’re funny, man.” Yuri said, sounding like he woke up from a nap.”

“No, the police are likely on their way. You could get in trouble!” Akira said, still attempting to lift the dead weight.

“I need a Doctor, you moron. Go to the precinct. Don’t let nothing stop you,” he leaned into Akira’s ear, covered by the overwhelming mask, “Kurosu-san.”

Akira lightly placed him on the ground and grabbed Ann’s hand, leading her into the subway tunnel nearby. He didn’t know if the train was coming, but he didn’t care. He hoped Ann’s kick bought them some time, as he ran.

“Will Yuri-san be okay?” Ann said, looking back over her shoulder.

“I hope so.” Akira replied.

They ran into the subway, seeing a train near departure. Akira threw the mask into the trash can nearby and jumped into the train with Ann, just before the doors closed.

Ann looked around, smiling at the apparent emptiness of the subway.

“Is the camera okay?”

Akira led her over and they watched the tape.

“Do you think this’ll do it?” He asked her.

“For sure, but we need some latex gloves to make sure they don’t get our fingerprints, as well as something to conceal our faces- like a rain parka when we deliver it to the police.

“Good idea.” He said, with a nod.

“If this does what we hope it does. It’ll help all of us at school. Imagine it: no more Kamoshida,” she said with a wistful expression on her face, “what was that? What you threw at him?”

Akira took a gulp of saliva, feeling something gnaw at his insides. “I have a lot to tell you.”

——————————————————

Ryuji Sakamoto

Ryuji and Morgana watched as the passerby’s picked up Kamoshida and Yuri from the concrete and rushed them into the hospital.

“What the fuck did we miss?” Ryuji said, staring at his fists, sparking with electricity.

Morgana shook his head, “Ryuji, I’m so sorry. Akira, he’s gone dark side.”

Ryuji looked at Morgana- the dark haired boy’s eyes covered by cheap sunglasses, “we can get him out of it, right?”

Morgana looked down, trying to swallow down the words lost cause.

—————————————-

Ann Takamaki

Ann was laying in her bedroom, hearing the light cellphone keyboard taps from the living room. She was thankful that Akira was with her in the townhouse, the thought of being by herself after all that transpired disturbed her. She hoped that Boss wouldn’t give him too much of a hard time for not coming home.

Sleep shouldn’t have come easy for her, she felt ashamed that it did. But she found herself confronting another morning. Akira had left long before she awoke, leaving her with a note to meet him at school as well as some breakfast- something that she inhaled.

School, unfortunately, was school, she kept on wanting something to happen. Some dramatic announcement or something, but nothing did. She frowned as she continued her day, half hearing lectures and twiddling her thumbs. She had planned on visiting Shiho that afternoon, but she had agreed, at lunch, to head to Leblanc. Akira and her concocted a story about him meeting with her in the evening after hospital visiting hours were done with Ryuji and Mishima and how they all kind of chatted at a nearby hole in the wall, before realizing that the trains were shut down. 

It felt both nice and strange to have to create some excuse, she didn’t have a curfew or anything now that her parents were jet setting around the world. It’s not that they didn’t care, she was sure they did, but being alone for that long made her always carry a kernel of sadness around with her. Now that Shiho was in the hospital, she felt as though she had lost the one person in the world who understood and tolerated her. Even though Akira was the school’s delinquent with superpowers, at least she could count on him to be there for her.

They entered Leblanc, and she sat down in the booth while Akira and Boss chatted amongst themselves. She couldn’t help but giggle at Akira adamantly denying that were a couple, as she thumbed through the forum.

Akira sat across from her, awaiting a text from Ryuji as the curry pot nearby bubbled.

Everything seemed to align with the alternate reality she envisioned for herself.

Then the news report happened.

“We have received a report from the police regarding the beloved Volleyball teacher and Olympic medalist Surguru Kamoshida. Police were left a video tape by an anonymous individual in which Kamoshida tearfully confesses to various crimes he committed against the volleyball team- including sexually harassing female students and physically assaulting male ones. This all culminated into a female student attempting suicide just yesterday. The Academy’s Principal has denied any knowledge of the coaches’ activities, which does not align with our anonymous sources which also cite: far too long practices, practicing to the point of injury as commonplace occurrences. One source even claimed that the students parents knew to some extent what was happening.” 

The host continued, “we have also received startling reports that the coach has seemingly fled the hospital he was being held and now a manhunt is on the way. The police have said that a manhunt is on the way, and ask for the public’s help in locating this individual. We introduce our panel...”

Ann looked down at the scratched booth’s table with a grimace. “Shirking justice again? Sounds about right.”

She didn’t notice the smoke that was rising from her palms until a few moments later.

————————————————

????????

Somewhere in Tokyo a white van was stuck in traffic. Three men, clad in suits, aggressively chatted away on their cellphones as the van driver honked his horn.

The disgraced volleyball coach looked down at his feet dejected.

“Why do you guys want me? Those kids were right. I’m the scum of the earth.”

The one in the passenger seat continued to watch the confession video in silence, while the driver continued to honk his horn aggressively.

“We couldn’t care less about a piece of shit like you, but the Grandmaster does, and whatever they want, they get.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun!


End file.
